Haloed Away
by Shadow Master
Summary: (BtVS/Halo/Stargate SG-1) Contrary to what some might think the direct approach is not always the best way to win a fight. Sometimes a more indirect strategy is better. In this case though...the idiot should've just kept things simple.
1. Chapter 1

"Haloed Away" by Shadow Master

(BtVS/Halo/Stargate SG-1)

email: ryley[underscore]breen

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the copyrighted material contained herein. They are the rightful property of their creators and/or their associated companies. I make no profit from this story whatsoever and I have no intention of changing this at any point in the future. I write fan fiction because it's fun and because there are those who enjoy reading my work. I would appreciate it if no legal action were taken against me. I can assure all relevant parties that whatever money you'd get from me wouldn't cover even a tenth of your legal fees.

Note: In terms of timeline this takes place early season three for BtVS, early 2517 in the Halo-verse and prior to the events of the modern day events of the first Stargate movie.

Note 2: I am doing the best I can to read, watch and review as much Halo source material as I can get. I have the books, comic books and will watch the cutscenes on youtube as well as read some of the better fan fiction involving Halo in order to become competent with the franchise. Nevertheless this is fair warning to any diehard Halo fans out there: while I will do my best to accurately utilize the information gleaned from the source material it is likely that there will still be some errors. Please be understanding as you read.

 _Haloed Away_

 _ **Sunnydale City Hall, Mayor's Office**_

 _ **Richard Wilkins the First, Second and Third's POV**_

The future.

It is something that ever marches towards you but you can never grasp it because, just before it gets within reach, it transforms into the present, forcing you to accept any form it takes. There are those who do all they can to force the future to take the form they desire. They scheme, manipulate, betray and in some cases cross every line of morality known to man in order to gain what they desire. Those who hold human morality in high regard purposefully restrict themselves from crossing certain lines so that they may enter into whatever desirable afterlife their respective religions depict.

Fortunately for him, he had no such desire to enter into one of those religious afterlives and much preferred to spend eternity in the land of the living in a satisfactory position.

That was why he had spent almost a full century working towards the brass ring that even the most renowned warlocks would hesitate to attempt to seize. Why did others not try? For one thing the odds of meeting every requirement, on schedule, without being foiled by either the forces of light or rivals amongst the forces of darkness were almost impossible. The forces of light would oppose anyone reaching the goal because it would upset their precious 'balance' and because there were few 'champions' that would be capable of vanquishing what he would become. The forces of darkness would wish to stop him because not only would his new form blow the veil of secrecy they'd worked so hard to construct into nothingness, it would also place him at the very top of the pecking order. The 'veil of secrecy' had been enacted almost two centuries ago when a meeting took place between parties on both sides, on both mortal and immortal levels. Surprisingly enough the meeting had been requested by the forces of darkness, who voiced concerns about the technological potential humanity was displaying. The representatives of the dominant demon lords were worried that, with increasing strides in weapons development and transportation design, humans might soon gain the means to wipe them out. When the forces of light asked why they should be opposed to that, they were reminded that not all demonic factions fell under the banners of their masters. While individually they might not be a threat, together they would do quite a bit of damage up to and including triggering the apocalypse.

There was also enough of a chance that these unaligned factions could very well succeed even if forces from both the light as well as the dark attempted to stop them.

Those factions would rather take their chances with the chaos or new arrivals their actions would bring to Earth than allow the human race to become powerful enough to commit demonic genocide on them all.

Solutions were debated, argued and a few representatives on both sides even killed each other but terms were agreed upon. Efforts would be made on both sides to suppress the existence of the supernatural either by adopting concealment tactics or by thoroughly discrediting occult information sources in the eyes of the human public. Science would become mankind's sole manner of understanding the reality they lived in and demon kind would police their own in order to keep anything more than rumor or speculation from entering the public's sphere of thought. By doing this humanity would be allowed to continue to advance and develop without agitating the non-aligned factions into bringing about an end to the status quo currently being enjoyed by both parties.

Considering what he had planned for the end of the current school year, it would definitely make it impossible for the uninformed public from realizing the truth.

Fortunately he had one advantage: the Slayer.

Despite the fact that Elisabeth 'Buffy' Summers had managed to put quite a few feathers in her cap, she was still just ONE warrior and not a very bright one at that. Then again, perhaps it would be more accurate to say that she was intelligent but chose not to use it in favor of being able to appear 'normal' to those around her. Indeed, all the information he had been able to acquire on the blonde girl suggested a psychological obsession with behaving and living a life consistent with who she would've been had she never been Called. While she was not entirely negligent in her duties as 'champion', neither was she as dedicated to the cause as someone of her station should be in order to achieve optimum results.

Despite these flaws, the forces of light had not dispatched additional forces to the most powerful and active hellmouth on the planet in an effort to fully secure Sunnydale. Instead they put the entire weight of the local situation on the shoulders of one Slayer, her high school friends and her Watcher. True, with the addition of the second Slayer, Faith LeHane, and her wet behind the ears Watcher, the threat level of the self-proclaimed Scoobies had gone up a bit but not by much. As a result they were only now beginning to realize he existed and the extent of his influence atop the hellmouth. They did not know about his endgame, his Ascension into a full demon, but if Alan kept leaning in the same direction as he currently, was that could change.

It was such a shame that Samuel failed to instill a proper sense of loyalty and dark ambition in his son. The man had been a dedicated acolyte who would have shared in the spoils if he hadn't been so careless with whom he slept with and contracted A.I.D.S. It was one of the reasons why he'd adopted a dedicated hygiene regime when he had since it just wouldn't do for him to catch some nasty disease before he rose above such disgusting things.

If Alan managed to inform his enemies of his intentions, it was not inconceivable that they might disrupt the final stages of his efforts enough to render all of them useless.

That was unacceptable.

He had not worked so hard, done so much, to be undone by a group of teenagers and their pet Watcher!

Therefore he needed to take steps in order to ensure that they would not or could not stop him from achieving his objectives. Outright killing the Slayers and their Watchers would appear to be the right course of action to the heavy fisted but he knew better. Such aggressive action would only attract the attention of the forces of light and might prove enough to get them to commit some of their more dangerous non-Slayer assets to investigate. That'd mean arcane practitioners and former spec ops soldiers armed with weapons that'd proven effective against demons but didn't require they get too close to said demons. Despite their non-Slayer status, they would prove more effective against him than Summers and her crew due to their experience and dedication.

Instead he would make Slayer Summers… vanish, as in 'vanish with sufficient clues left behind to send the Watcher's Council on a wild goose chase far away from Sunnydale'.

By making her disappear in just the right way there would be no reason to give Sunnydale a closer look and, if he was precise enough, would encourage them to look elsewhere for her.

 _Vampires will be minion enough for the task,_ he thought as a plan began to form in his mind. _However to truly make sure she can't come back to ruin my plans, I will need something… special._

Banishment.

Dimensional banishment.

It would certainly put her far beyond her ability to return but the only flaw in that idea was every dimension he or an employable mage could send her was known to the forces of light. Depending on how badly they desired her return to this dimension, it would not be impossible for them to locate her and bring her back. He needed to send her to a dimension that was not known to or easily accessible to the forces of light but for that he would need an object from that dimension. Virtually all known dimensions had the necessary rituals, ceremonies and spells needed to visit them recorded somewhere. Some of the more commonly visited ones could be found in virtually any book or scroll centered on the relevant topic but some of the less common ones could only be found in the libraries of experts on dimensional travel. To send Slayer Summers to a dimension not known to the forces of light, he would need to compose a spell on his own and to ensure a stable connection he needed something with the vibrational frequency of the destination dimension.

While difficult, he knew of someone, a local of Sunnydale, who might have just what he required.

The man had a fascination for throwing a metaphorical net out and pulling in whatever got caught in it. In this case the man's sea was the ether between dimensions and the potential catches were the flotsam that got dumped in the ether by breaches of various sizes that opened long enough for something to pass through it. True, the man's early efforts had resulted in him becoming infected with some sort of genetic rewriting virus that made him human in appearance only but their past dealings hadn't been all that unreasonable. Just a few files he'd acquired on the movements of an obscure order of monks in Europe. They weren't all that current but the man had been grateful to receive them nonetheless and considered them adequate payment for the services he required.

Now, what would be adequate payment for a one of a kind item from a dimension not yet visited never mind explored?

 _I'm sure I have something I can trade for what I desire,_ he thought without too much worry. _Almost anything would be worth sacrificing if it ensured that my Ascension became one Slayer lighter._

With that in mind he began to map out how his manipulations would unfold, factoring in multiple contingencies for every stage of the plan in order to ensure its success.

After, all a well-conceived plan was worth more than its weight in gold.

Much more indeed!

 _ **The Summers Family Home**_

 _ **Joyce Summers' POV**_

When did it all come to this?

It was a question she'd been asking herself ever since she'd first come across solid evidence of Hank's infidelity and it'd only gotten worse with Buffy's odd and violent behavior. Naturally she'd tried to figure out if it was something she'd done or if there was something wrong with them. When she ran out of answers she could come up with on her own, she'd started delving into various books she could buy that claimed to be able to explain what went on in the minds of troubled children. For Hank it was a little more obvious. The man was a RAT BASTARD! He preferred thinking with his little head and fooling around with his secretary, who was half his age, rather than remain true to the vows they took on their wedding day.

When Buffy began talking about monsters and vampires as if they really existed, it only got worse.

She'd argued with Hank, told him that their daughter needed counseling, not the extreme he was proposing, but in the end he wore down her resolve. Her darling baby girl was committed to psychiatric facility a week later with the promise that they would do everything they could to cure her of her 'delusions'. She'd dedicated herself to weekly visits to see how Buffy was doing but the times when her little girl was drugged or tied up in a strait jacket after a 'hostile altercation with facility staff', the pain proved to be too much. It was only a few months later when the doctor in charge of her daughter's care declared that Buffy had been cured that she'd truly believed that the nightmare was over. Indeed, the teenage girl appeared to be completely back to normal, saying that she'd just been acting out to get some attention in light of the friction caused by Hank's lack of faithfulness. It had made sense, it was rational, so she didn't hesitate to grab hold of it with both hands and accept it as truth.

She should have known better.

Looking out the window into the nighttime landscape of Sunnydale, she remembered how optimistic she'd been when they'd first arrived. It'd looked like your typical sleepy small town far away from the dangerous streets of Los Angeles but still in California, so they wouldn't be completely separated from the environments they knew. She'd tried to be nice and not too overbearing in the beginning but the books she'd read made it clear that it was important for parents to establish borders for their children, that giving them too much free reign would prevent them from accepting that there were consequences to their actions and that they had to act responsibly.

Buffy had just rolled her eyes, no doubt believing it to be standard mothering.

At first everything'd been working out, with her daughter making friends, having fun and applying herself in school, or at least as much as any teenager applied themselves.

Then the suspicious activity began again and, while some of Buffy's explanations were reasonable, others made it clear something was being hidden. Denial and a desire for things to not sour had caused her to turn away from what the various signs were telling her but rather to brush it off as normal teenager hijinks. However denial could only go so far and, when she saw a man turn into ash, crumbling into a pile on the front porch of her house… she got to enjoy the LOVELY experience of having her world turned upside down. She'd done what any person would do and clung to the version of reality she'd been raised to believe in because what she was being told was the truth was just too horrible. Demons, vampires, witches, warlocks and her daughter being some superhuman savior chosen by Fate!? It was all too much to handle and so she'd tried to fight her way back to the more appealing definition of reality and drag her daughter with her.

Too bad her daughter was even more stubborn than she was but given what was at stake and given time enough to come to terms with the truth, Buffy had made the right call.

Now… now she was just trying to roll with every new bit of weirdness that happened while providing a comforting place for her daughter to return to each night.

She might not be able to fight alongside Buffy but she could make sure she had food to eat, a bed to sleep in and she was contemplating taking lessons in first aid to help even more.

True, there'd be a limit to what she could handle with only first aid training and, if Buffy's injuries were more severe, a trip to the hospital would be needed. Still, her daughter had been to the hospital in the past and no nurse or doctor had said anything, so there shouldn't be in any danger should a future trip be required.

Immediately she squashed such thoughts as her imagination produced possible injury after possible scenario wherein her daughter could be hurt enough to require a professional surgeon. Instead she focused on the fact that Buffy hadn't been doing all these dangerous things alone but rather had a group of friends and at least one responsible adult helping her. Though she was still somewhat bitter towards Mister Giles for keeping the truth from her, for being there for her daughter when she couldn't, she was still reassured by his presence at her little girl's side.

Willow, a redheaded teenager with a thirst for knowledge that would probably get her to a job as a scientist or maybe an inventor working for a company. The girl was so shy it was cute and the way she'd looked at her friend Xander absolutely screamed crush. There were times when she'd had difficulty keeping her laughter on the inside with how clueless the young man seemed to be that his best friend was interested in him but couldn't take his eyes off Buffy. She'd heard her daughter speak about Xander around the house often enough to know that, from the beginning, the teenage guy was firmly welded into the 'friend' column. The only way it could've been made even funnier would be if her daughter was a closet bisexual and daydreamed about what it'd be like to make out with Willow.

She chuckled a bit at the imagery that produced as she looked away from the window.

Xander was a nice enough young man but either he suffered from a bad case of obliviousness or knowingly played dumb to the looks Willow was sending his way. She could understand that to a certain extent. They'd been friends since preschool from what she'd heard and it was difficult to make the jump from friend to girlfriend, especially in your teenage years when you're trying to make sense of all the new experiences and feelings you were having. Some just preferred keeping things the way they'd always been rather than risk it all on a move that could make it impossible to step back and be just friends again. It didn't surprise her that he was attracted to Buffy, either, as her little girl had always been fairly popular among her classmates AND spent quite a bit of money on making sure she looked her best. Whenever the time came to buy clothes for the new school year, she did what she could to get Buffy what she wanted but never let her budget out of her sight.

With Hank overseas screwing his secretary, she was a single mom with only an art gallery to earn enough money to support the two of them.

 _Shouldn't those Watchers be giving Buffy some kind of salary or monthly stipend?_ she thought to herself as the idea came out of left field. _I mean, to hear Buffy talk about it, they've been around for centuries so they have to have a lot of money, right? Or at least things that could get them money. Right? Right. I'll have to ask Mister Giles about that next time I see him._

A knock at the door made her brows furrow in confusion since she wasn't expecting company and Buffy said she wouldn't be back for another hour when she called last. Setting down the book she'd been reading, she got out of her favorite chair and walked towards the door, remembering what she'd been told about precautions against the nonhuman just as she began to reach for the doorknob. Lowering her hand, she carefully peeked out the windows built into the door and saw what looked like a man in a grey suit with a fedora obscuring the top half of his face waiting for her.

Okay, nothing TOO nonhuman at first glance.

Opening the door just a crack so that, if she needed to, she could slam it shut and lock it, she looked out at the man who turned to face her but still didn't raise his head enough so she could see all of his face.

"Yes?" she asked, hoping that the man would choose to look her in the eye so she could see his entire face.

"Missus Summers? Joyce Summers?" the man asked as if to confirm her identity.

This didn't bode well because usually the only people who did that were in law enforcement or some other vocation where it was a bad idea to make a mistake.

"That's right. What do you want?" she asked, trying not to sound impolite but at the same time prompt the man to get to the point of why he was at her door at this time of night.

"Oh, nothing much," the man replied as he raised his head to let her look him right in the eyes. "I just wanted to see what the mother of the local Slayer looked like."

She wanted to slam the door shut. She wanted to lock it, run for the phone and call for help.

But she couldn't.

She could only see the star-filled eyes of the man in front of her before consciousness was ripped from her mind, leaving only darkness.

Darkness and fear that she might never wake again.

 _ **Residential Area, Sunnydale, Revelo Drive**_

 _ **Buffy's POV**_

"Well, that was the awesome that really wasn't." Xander griped as he walked her home.

"No kidding," she said offhand since it didn't really matter to her. "You'd think destroying a mojo glove that can let someone toss lightning would be flashier when it got destroyed."

"Guess it just goes to show you that Hollywood's love of overkill has seriously desensitized us." he said, sounding like he was accepting a new fact of reality. "Maybe the next one'll be flashier."

"Do you even know what 'desensitized' means?" she asked offhand, never having heard him use a word like that before.

Willow or Giles? Yeah. Xander? No.

"Heard my sociology teacher say it once," he replied, recalling the moment. "I think it means violence and stuff doesn't bother me much anymore. Like the world needs to raise its game to the next level if it wants to freak me out."

"Huh," she said as she contemplated that. "Guess it's really going to have to work for it to get me freaked out because I've seen and slayed some seriously freaksome stuff since I got Called."

Wasn't that an understatement!

In the last three years since she'd been Called, she'd fought everything from fresh from the grave vamps to demons capable of treating heavy tombstones like Frisbees. Magic hadn't been a big thing for the most part, except for a few rare cases, but it'd still taught her a valuable lesson: if you don't know what the magical thingy does, DON'T touch it. Just tell Giles about it and let him deal with it. The only time that rule went out the window was if there wasn't time to get answers from her Watcher. Usually when that happened she either smashed the magical thingy or used the reactions of the demons to figure out if she was doing something that'd help their plans or screw them up.

Usually it worked.

When it didn't… she was VERY glad that she could sprint faster than Olympic athletes.

As they turned the corner onto her street, though, she got another very good reason to be thankful that she could run really fast: the door to her house was open and she could see a large dagger sticking out of it. Not even bothering to say anything to Xander, she ran as quickly as she could for her home, fear gripping her heart, hoping to find her mother unharmed.

"MOM! MOM ARE YOU HERE!?" she asked the second she was through the door.

Hearing nothing, she immediately began a hectic search of the house, starting with the living room before moving onto the dining room and then going upstairs. No matter where she looked, though, she couldn't find her mother or even a clue about where she could be. This did NOT do good things for her state of mind as she walked down the stairs to find Xander looking at the dagger that'd been stabbed into the front door. It was then she noticed that the dagger wasn't by its lonesome: there was a piece of paper pinned to the door by it.

Someone had something to say.

This could either be very helpful or very bad.

"What does it say?" she asked, almost wishing she'd kept her mouth shut.

"'Slayer Summers. No doubt at the moment you are wondering where your mother is and who I am so you can rescue her while pummeling me into another incarnation. However I am in control now, Slayer, not you. Therefore you will have to be happy with the answers I choose to give you.'" Xander said as he read the message word for word. "'Your mother is alive and currently in my care. She will remain so as long as you do precisely as I instruct. It is my intention to become supreme ruler of Sunnydale but in order to do that I need my competition weakened. THAT is where you come in.'"

Her mother was leverage to make her help someone become the kingpin of the Hellmouth? She was SO asking Angel for some Angelus pointers in the area of torture because just killing the bastard wasn't payback enough for involving her mother in this.

She'd make it clear to anyone living in or thinking of moving to Sunnydale that Joyce Summers was OFF LIMITS!

"'Listed at the bottom of this piece of paper are the names and current addresses of the major powers in Sunnydale's demonic community. You will attack them, ALL of them, before the sun rises and eliminate all you encounter at those addresses. I'm not particularly picky about the method so long as they cease to be anything resembling a threat.'" Xander said with growing anger as he read the message. "'Do this and your mother shall be returned to you alive and unharmed. Fail and… I think you can fill in the blanks. I await news of your glorious victories. Signed Elias Hargreave.'"

"Gee, this guy doesn't ask for much, does he?!" she asked rhetorically both with anger as well as sarcasm.

"We gotta bring in Giles on this, pronto," Xander said as he pulled the dagger out of the door and separated it from the piece of paper. "Maybe he knows who this guy is and can help us turn the tables on the asshole."

"Right! And since time is running out we're getting to the library as quick as we can," she said as she walked over to the table by the door and grabbed the keys to her mother's car.

"Um… how many driving lessons have you taken?" Xander asked, sounding like he was a minute away from saying he'd walk.

"I got us through town easy enough during the whole cursed candy thing last week. Now GET in the DAMN CAR!" she growled in a way that made it clear wasting her time would only piss her off.

"Yes ma'am!" Xander said, saluting her on reflex and then he made for the parked car in the driveway.

She shoved any surprise and curiosity that might've brought out in her aside as she ran over to the driver's side door, opened it and then got inside. Right then she just slapped a 'leftover from last year's Halloween' sticker on it and called it good. Turning the key, she waited only until she was sure the engine had turned over before shifting the car into reverse and peeling out of the drive way. Shifting into drive as soon as she could, she went as quickly as she could down the street, using the walking route she usually took to get to the high school as a guide.

"Um… Buffy? You might want to keep it below the speed limit," Xander said, looking a little pale. "It'll only take longer to get to the school if we get pulled over for speeding."

Gritting her teeth, she reluctantly complied bringing the vehicle's speed below the speed limit since she was in no mood to get pulled over, not when she had better things to do then deal with the ignorant idiots that were supposed to be doing HER job.

Thinking about the list she'd been handed by her mother's kidnapper, she had an epiphany that made her smile internally. Hard Grief had given her a list of rivals to kill but in doing so he'd also pointed her in the direction of monsters that'd know more about him. While she knew that a lot of them would be stupid, maintaining their empires through brute force alone, some of them would have two brain cells to rub together and remain informed on possible threats. She would do whatever it took to get them to tell her everything so, as soon as her mother was safe, she'd use that information to hunt the bastard down and take him down HARD.

The asshole was giving her the gun she'd shoot him with.

And she'd enjoy every moment of it.

 _ **Warehouse District, MacKenzie Factory, Elias Hargreave's POV**_

"Yes… yes… good," Mayor Wilkins said as he spoke with someone over his phone. "Continue surveillance but be sure to remain undetected. I will be most put out if she realizes she's being monitored."

With that the phone call was over but he didn't really mind one way or another.

As long as he got paid for his services that was all that mattered.

Still, he had to admit it'd been a long while since he'd last been hired to deal with a Slayer or perform a spell of such originality. True, piercing the veil between dimensions was nothing new but opening one to a dimension never before visited and only had a piece of delivered to them by chance… it'd be quite a feather in his cap. Perhaps enough to allow him to increase his hiring rates by a measurable amount. Still, it would be best not to get too careless. He'd read the briefing information his employer had given on the Slayer and it as somewhat noteworthy in that she'd successfully slain Lothos, the Master of the Aurelian clan of vampires and thwarted Angelus. Not too shabby for someone who'd only been Called three years prior. Still, he was confident that the plan he'd conceived would take care of her allies, ensuring that the girl would arrive in the final room by herself. After that all that would be needed would be to cast a binding spell on Summers strong enough to last until he completed the ritual to banish her from this dimension.

 _At least she wouldn't be going alone,_ he thought with a sadistic smile on her face. _Her mother will be going with her as she'll be in the center of the banishment circle._

Indeed he'd known from the beginning that getting her into the circle would be hard unless the proper bait lay within it. All he needed to do was make sure that the completion of the ritual was timed to perfectly coincide with the Slayer's efforts to remove her mother's restraints and it'd all work out perfectly.

"Well, it's all working out just as I planned, Mister Hargreave," Mayor Wilkins said, turning to speak with him. "She found your rather flamboyant message and is on her way to her Watcher as we speak. It'll only be a matter of time before she begins to go through the list I gave you."

"How far do you think she'll get before she finds her way here?" he asked out of idle curiosity even as his immediate subordinates continued preparing the gauntlet that would keep the Slayer's allies busy but not stop her.

"Two hours. Maybe three," Wilkins replied after a moment's consideration. "She's smarter than she lets others believe but won't let it show. Her mother being in danger might be enough to make her drop her 'I am just a normal girl' performance enough to let her intellect shine through. Still, those on the list won't be able to tell her much and it'll take her at least two hours to collect enough clues to discover this location."

"Good. That will be plenty of time for my minions to finish preparations and get into position," he said after doing some quick calculating, using past jobs as references.

"It's truly refreshing to see a warlock who takes his job seriously, Mister Hargreave." Wilkins said with a happy smile on his face. "I can see your reputation was not exaggerated. I expect that the results will be the same as they were for all your previous assignments."

"Don't worry, Mayor Wilkins," he said in a reassuring manner. "I have orchestrated coups in third world nations, neutralized defenses allowing my employers to attain vengeance against a hated foe and rewrote the mind of a young lady to make her exactly the sort of woman my client wanted her to be. Tricking one Slayer into position so I can banish her from this dimension will NOT be a problem."

"Make sure that it isn't for, if she manages to get away with her mother, I will consider it a breach of contract." Mayor Wilkins said in a tone that chilled even him. "I trust you know the consequences of such a breach when it comes to magical contracts such as ours."

Indeed he did.

It was an agreement that was common amongst those who knew the truth of the world and possessed either power or influence enough to warrant such a strong 'agreement'. The consequences Wilkins spoke of varied from contract to contract but in this particular case a breach of contract by him would result in the complete forfeiture of five of his more valuable assets. While not enough to affect his standing in the arcane community, the items he would lose would be more than a little bothersome to be without. All of them had taken no small amount of effort to acquire and would not be easy to replace even with the arcane methods he'd been using to extend his lifespan beyond the human norm. Therefore he resolved to put a little more effort into ensuring that everything would unfold precisely as Mayor Wilkins had mandated during their discussion of the terms of his contract.

"I have never failed to successfully fulfill a contract in the past, Mayor Wilkins, and I have no intention of starting now."

"Good. I will leave you to your work," Mayor Wilkins said before turning around and walking towards the door of the building, his vampire bodyguards forming up around him.

Normally he would not be intimidated by four vampires, as his magical abilities were easily up to the task of dusting the walking corpses, but these four were members of an elite group. The Order of the Fang, to be precise, and their warriors were known to have killed quite a few demon hunters and Slayers since their founding two millennia ago. They were not only formidable fighters, trained in a variety of styles and weapons, but they also possessed the ability to consciously sacrifice bits of their human side to get closer to the pure demon whom had created their kind. However, to his knowledge, no member of their Order to date had managed to get closer than thirty-three percent before their bodies crumbled into dust. Nevertheless, those that knew how to take themselves right to the edge without falling over it were not to be trifled with and he believed Wilkins influential enough to gain four of the Order's better warriors.

He would not do something foolish like engage them in battle on a whim.

Turning to his minions, he began to take direct control of their activities, reviewing it every step of the way in order to ensure there existed not even the slightest mistake. While each of his subordinates were competent enough thanks to his careful tutelage, he was still in the process of determining which of them would best suit the role of his apprentice. Every mage needed a worthy right hand and, if worse came to worse, with the Fates choosing to remove him from existence, he would need someone to carry on in his name. Even with all the arcane knowledge that existed in the world, true immortality, in its purest form, had yet to be achieved. Many demon breeds and skilled magic users had come close but in his opinion they cheated rather than succeeded. Vampires needed regular infusions of blood in order to continue living. Warlocks often grafted demonic attributes onto themselves in order to achieve a longer lifespan. No one had managed to achieve the kind of immortality that required no fuel and made it impossible for anything short of a deity to terminate.

However it was on his list of things he'd like to achieve before the Grim Reaper came calling.

If Wilkins had proved anything to him with what he'd seen fit to reveal, it was that the long shots were indeed possible to achieve.

It wasn't like he had anything else to do in between clients.

 _ **Sunnydale High School, Library**_

 _ **Xander's POV**_

"So what're the assignments?" he asked as he looked at the assortment of weapons he had to choose from.

"What do you mean?" Buffy asked him from her position next to Giles.

"Well, as much fun as it'd be to just kick the doors in and go nuts, I'm thinking we're going to need a better plan than what Larry and his Cro-Mag pals would consider smart," he replied, deciding on one of the larger axes before tucking one of the small tomahawks beneath his belt. "That means having a strategy with each of us playing a role in making sure we all come out of this with minimal bruising."

"YOU'RE not coming," Buffy declared in her usual 'my word is law so say me GOD' tone of voice. "None of you are. You're all staying here digging up info while I go exercise my right to kick ass and get some answers."

"At the risk of having you bite my head off, Buffy,are you sure it's wise to go alone?" Giles asked, sounding like he was mentally bracing himself for Buffy's incoming outburst. "I recognize some of the names on the list from the Council's monthly intelligence reports. While not quite as formidable as the Master or Angelus on their own or in terms of the forces at their command… you may be biting off more than you can chew facing them by yourself."

"You've never seen me go all out with a vengeance, Giles," Buffy said in a chilly tone that had him reflexively rubbing his bare arms to warm them up. "I'm a nuclear reactor that's heating up and I'm gonna go Chernobyl on their asses!"

Oddly enough, while he still thought that Buffy should let them come along as combat support, he had to admit he was interested in seeing Buffy go all Leeloo on their asses. While seeing Buff' kick vamp ass was always entertaining to watch, he never got the feeling that she'd ever went all out all that often. He didn't get to see her fight against the Master and he'd missed out on the closing minutes of her fight against evil Deadboy, but he assumed with baddies like them she'd gone all out. As such he was seriously interested in seeing the sort of carnage she could unleash on unsuspecting baddies.

Still, the soldier remnants in him made it clear that it didn't matter how skilled a soldier was, they could still be brought down if overwhelmed by superior numbers. To him that meant that there was only one acceptable option for him.

"All that means is that they'll be focusing most of their attention on you instead of us," he said, internally debating for a moment before taking a sheathed dagger from the weapons locker and strapping it on. "Gives us room to take'em by surprise and a little off the top."

"You're not going and THAT is THAT!" Buffy said before storming out the doors with the weapons she'd selected before him, causing the library doors to swing violently.

Looking in the direction the blonde Slayer had gone, he had to shake his head at her bullheadedness.

"She don' know us vewy well, DO she?" he asked rhetorically in his best Bugs Bunny impersonation.

Looking at the remaining weapons in the locker, he decided that he had enough dark ages murder-death-kill tools on him and it was time to slip by his house to pick up something a little more current. Patting his back pocket to confirm that his copy of the addresses for the people on the list was still there, he began to stride for the door.

"Xander? Where are you going?" Willow asked, stopping him in his tracks.

He knew he couldn't lie to her because, after so many years of friendship, she knew his tells too well and would spot a falsehood in less than a second. So he decided to give her just enough of the truth to make her back off without giving away the full scope of what he had planned.

"Just spinning by my house to pick up a few things," he replied, not turning around in case he accidentally gave away the fact that he was omitting a few things. "Just some odds and ends Oz helped me get when we raided the army base."

"While I am not so foolish so as to say that modern weaponry is useless against demons given how the rocket launcher faired against the Judge, I must question the wisdom of using them in this case." Giles said with a pause that made him think the Brit was cleaning his glasses. "The confusion and general oddness of the battle at the mall might have saved us from legal reprisals but, given the areas the targets have made their homes, the police will come to investigate gunshots and… ahem… explosions."

He had to roll his eyes at that even as he conceded that the police might actually get off their donut-eating asses to investigate since gunshots and booms didn't usually equal demons.

"Don't worry," he said, not quite willing to give up just yet. "Most of what I've got have silencers and I promise I won't use the heavy artillery unless I absolutely have to."

"Very well," Giles said, sensing probably that further arguing would be useless. "Just do try to conceal them somewhat. I would rather not find out later that you had been arrested for illegal arms possession."

"Will do," he said as he exited the library even as he gave the last warning half the weight the Brit probably thought it needed.

If there was one thing that he had come to count on in Sunnydale, it was that the people tended to rationalize away anything odd or unusual. If anyone saw him they'd probably just assume they were fakes or props or toys and then just go on their merry way. After all, with companies pushing for more and more realism in their products, it wouldn't be impossible for one of their items to appear at first glance to be identical to the real thing. Even if they weren't able to come up with a good excuse, they'd probably forget what they saw inside of an hour.

In the event that someone did call the cops on him, it wouldn't matter much. He'd already planned out five different hiding spots for his ill-gotten gains if keeping them at home became too risky. So long as he made sure to squirrel them away before the cops slapped the cuffs on him, all they'd have would be witness statements and no evidence. Enough, perhaps, to hold him for a while but, unless the S.P.D. were even more sleazy than Stein made them out to be, they'd eventually let him go.

Moving through the streets of Sunnydale, he began to consider other options for resolving the current problem and rescuing Missus S. If the guy thought he was big enough to make a play for the throne of Sunnydale, he had to have made waves elsewhere in the world. After all, if he was just a lunatic thinking that the universe would bow to his desires, he'd have been squashed long before coming to Sunnydale. That meant that maybe a trip past Willy's might be a good idea since that impotent little weasel always kept his ear to the ground for info to sell to the highest bidder. A part of him was sickened that any human would willingly do business with demons but the more practical part of his mind conceded that even rats served a purpose. If he could keep demons and vamps off the street while also providing the occasional bit of useful intel, then he GUESSED that he could cut Willy some slack.

It didn't mean that he wouldn't use 'painful persuasion' on the slimeball if he has cause, though.

Fifteen minutes later he was outside his house and, judging from the number of lights on, he figured it was safe to say that Tony was asleep along with his mom, so that was one thing in his favor. Quietly slipping through the door he crept quietly, using years of experience, to the basement door and made his way down the stairs while avoiding places he knew would produce a squeak. While he could've stashed them in his room, he knew Tony randomly looked there for things he could hock for cash at the local thrift store. The basement, however, was a place the drunk rarely went unless he absolutely had to and the rest of the time just ordered his 'dear wife' to go down. Fortunately his mother had an aversion to bugs, rats and a variety of other things, so she didn't stray any further from the stairs than she absolutely had to.

So it was about as safe a place to hide as any inside his home.

Moving over to a pile of empty paint cans and trash bags, he pushed them aside to reveal the stash he'd BORROWED from the local army base.

 _First I'm gonna need something with a lot of range,_ he thought as he looked through his selection. _I might be able to handle your average fledgling no problem but no way can I survive a serious brawl with three or more. Better to even the odds from a distance._

To him that meant the M21. He would have loved something a little more up to date but, sadly, this was from a lower-end armory, not a Special Forces base. It would do, especially since he'd been lucky enough to snag one of the pricier looking scopes, but it was heavy. Coupled with the heavier rounds that he had paired with the five magazines that had been in the locker, he figured he could probably thin the ranks of most of Buffy's targets before either running dry or being forced to switch to a medium range weapon.

For that he figured the tried and true M-16A2. It would work fine with its thirty round magazine, of which he had four, and he had even managed to score an under-barrel grenade launcher. There may have been some quiet squealing, but it was manly squealing and anyone who said otherwise was a dirty, rotten liar. It would be a decent choice for small groups of demons with its burst fire abilities but he would try and keep it to semi-automatic if at all possible.

If the demons proved too fast for him, that was what the grenade launcher was for and he had ammo enough for six shots lying before him, five of which were normal Hi-Ex rounds. The sixth one worried the hell out of him. White Phosphorus, Willy Pete, was a stone bitch to work with under the best of circumstances. That one he had marked with yellow and white and would save it for last, in case everything went to hell and he had to get danger close with Buffy.

Finally, if worse came to worse and the enemy got to within close quarters, he needed something that packed a punch and to him that meant a shotgun. He'd tried to find something automatic to work with, so that he could fire just as quickly as he could pull the trigger, but he had come up dry. Worse than that, Mickey Mouse on his wrist said that the guard shift would be coming by soon so, as beggars could not be choosers, he went with the Mossberg pump-action that they had there that someone had been playing around with because it has a pistol grip instead of a shoulder stock. This sucked because it meant he couldn't steady it as one should, which was not the ideal choice as demons and vampires moved quickly, and really couldn't use it as a club if it came down to it. He would have to be extra careful when he was reloading and working the pump.

Add to all that a stun gun and he figured he'd be ready for just about anything.

He just hoped that they weren't too late already.

 _ **MacKenzie Factory, Unclean Room**_

 _ **Joyce's POV**_

What is going on?

It was a question she'd been asking ever since she'd regained consciousness in this room that, to her eyes, looked to be a factory storage room. It wasn't the cleanest and she was pretty sure she'd seen a cockroach skitter between two of the boxes, but it wasn't like there was much she could do about that. After all, with her legs and arms tied securely with rope, she wasn't able to do much more than wiggle away from it and hope she wasn't wiggling toward something even worse. She hadn't seen anyone since she'd woken up but she'd heard people talking as well as moving around so she'd tried to get their attention by yelling through the door.

It didn't work.

So she did her best to move over so she could use her feet to kick the door in the hopes that that would force whoever was on the other side to at least speak to her, if not open the door so she could get a good look at them.

That didn't work either.

So for the last hour she'd been trying to figure out what was going on and what options she had because there was a very good reason why she couldn't just lay here patiently to be rescued.

These… people… were obviously after her daughter and were using her as bait.

Now she wanted to have confidence that her daughter and her friends could handle themselves but, with her reflexively avoiding seeing her daughter fight or even train, her imagination had other ideas. What if these people were stronger than Buffy? What if they were smarter than Mister Giles? What if they outnumbered her daughter and her friends? Each of these questions went through her mind and her imagination provided her with a plethora of scenarios where each of them played out ending with her daughter seriously hurt or dead.

Unwilling to risk her daughter's life she was forcing herself to work past her fear and think up ways she could get free and escape.

Unfortunately the life of a single mother and art gallery owner didn't exactly give her the skill set for freeing herself from ropes, picking locks or getting out of a building she knew nothing about unseen. All of those things she'd only seen in movies or television shows, neither of which went into great detail, so they could hardly be called effective instructional tools. Still, she was determined not to let that get her down and so she continued to look for something, ANYTHING, that could be used to cut the ropes. Once she was free to move around she could begin looking for a way to open the door or otherwise escape from the room into the building.

Minutes passed as she looked everywhere she could but eventually her diligence was rewarded when she came upon a damaged can that had a gash going from top to bottom on one side that looked like it might be what she needed. It was disgusting what she was feeling her skin come into contact with as she wriggled over to it until she could grab it with her hands but there'd be time enough for a bath later. Tentatively she felt around the gash, being careful not to cut herself, and once she had a mental picture of it she began to move her arms so that the ropes were pressed against the metal. Back and forth, back and forth, she moved the ropes in an effort to cut them, only minimally being aware of any progress she was making. She suppressed the frustration and anxiety she was beginning to feel since neither emotion had done her any good in the past but it wasn't easy when you had no idea how much time you had left before someone came.

It all evaporated minutes later when, without warning, the ropes around her wrists went slack and, after bringing her hands in front of her, she smiled at their newly regained freedom. With them no longer bound it didn't take her long to untie her legs, allowing her to finally stand up for the first time since she'd woken up. Looking down at her clothes, she could see a few stains and smudges but not enough to consider either her skirt or her shirt a complete write off.

Plus, after dealing with Buffy's clothes for the last three years, she'd gotten the hang of getting unidentifiable stains out of clothing, so it wouldn't be too hard.

Going over to the door she tested the doorknob but with disappointment found it to be locked and not budging more than a few millimeters either way. Crouching down, she looked at the keyhole and, after a moment's consideration, she pulled one of the hairpins from the top of her head before tweaking it a bit and inserting. She knew that in principle the locked worked via a series of pins that needed to be manipulated just right before the mechanism could be turned, unlocking the door. If detecting progress in cutting ropes was difficult then knowing whether or not she was successfully manipulating the pins was near impossible. Still she kept at it, waiting until she was ready before trying her first turn only for the lock not to budge. Pulling the hairpin out, she went over what she'd done on the first attempt and altered it at random since she had no way of knowing how to improve her odds. Inserting the hairpin again she followed her new approach, sweating a little bit as the tension began to rise a bit in her.

 _C'mon, c'mon!_ _Please work!_

When her hairpin reached the end she said a quick prayer and twisted clockwise.

CLICK!

"YES!" she exclaimed in triumph at the fruits of her efforts.

Unfortunately her feeling of triumph turned shock and fear as the door opened not by her hand but by the hand of someone else. The someone else was revealed to be a man in a black suit but, when her gaze reached his face, the bulging forehead and mouth full of fangs told her the truth: it wasn't a man but a vampire. With a growl it grabbed her by the upper arm, pulled her to her feet and then yanked her out of the room into the hallway.

Fear swarmed around her as she was led down the hallway, keeping her from doing anything but stay on her feet. Was she going to be punished for trying to escape? What had the vampire originally come to her cell for? There was simply too much she didn't know and, unlike with running a business, a wrong choice could turn out to be quite fatal indeed. Whether by choice or by instinct she neither said nor did anything until she had more information to work with.

"Ah! Missus Summers!" a man said as they reached their destination. "I trust you had a relaxing rest?"

It took her less than a second for her to recognize the male voice as the one who'd knocked on her front door who knew how long ago before, somehow rendering her unconscious. With a sharp turn of her head that might've given her whiplash she looked towards the source of the voice to see the culprit giving the man her best furious glare.

"Yes, I did, though I think you should fire the cleaning staff," she replied in a sharp tone of voice. "I've seen dumpsters that were cleaner."

"I quite agree but unfortunately my employer put me on a rather strict timetable so I was forced to prioritize where to direct the majority of my efforts," the man said with a smile that was far from genuine. "Put her in the center and chain her there."

In response to this the vampire that'd brought her to the room resumed manhandling her across to the center of the room where someone had drawn a circle straight out of an occult horror film. In the center of the pentagram someone had bolted some rather thick looking chains into the concrete floor and, as she found a few seconds later, old fashioned looking manacles were at the other end. With jerking, harsh movements, the manacles were secured to her wrists before being locked in place and then she was left to stand alone as the vampire walked off, leaving the room soon after. Reflexively she tested the chains for strength and then tried to squeeze her hands out of the manacles but there just wasn't enough room to do so. She even doubted that the movie trick of dislocating or breaking her own thumb would allow her to free herself.

"I wouldn't bother trying to free yourself at this point, Missus Summers," the man said with casualness that just didn't belong in the present situation. "The manacles are enchanted to change their size to whatever size is needed in order to ensure the one they bind cannot escape. Also, the chains are strong enough that I'd wager even your daughter would have time breaking them."

"Then why don't you do the cliché thing and give me the whole monologue about why you're doing this?" she said, deciding that taking a page out of her daughter's playbook might help.

"I suppose there are traditions that must be followed," the man said, taking only a moment to think it over. "Understand, though, that due to certain contractual obligations I won't be able to tell you everything. The basics are that my current employer is starting a very busy year and can't afford to be thwarted at such a crucial stage. Your daughter has made something of a reputation for interfering with the plans of my colleagues, so it has been decided that she must be removed from play sooner rather than later."

"You're going to kill her!?" she exclaimed in both fear and rage.

"Personally? No," the man said before picking up a book from a nearby table. "I'm merely going to banish her from this dimension. Whether or not she dies will depend entirely on just how dangerous her new home turns out to be. If it is anything like some of the hell dimensions I am aware of, she'll be lucky if she survives a minute. However there is a chance she'll arrive someplace capable of supporting human life without too much risk, so it's possible she'll get to live out the normal human lifespan."

Neither possibility appealed to her at all since, in either case, it'd lead to her being separated from her daughter forever.

"Still, I'm sure between the two of you something can be managed," the man said as he began flipping through the book.

"'The two of you'?" she asked even as understanding dawned on her.

"Oh? Didn't I mention it?" the man asked, like someone who'd forgotten to pass on a phone message. "You'll be going with her. The arcane circle you're standing in will banish the both of you from this dimension. I might be a mage for hire but even I'm not cruel enough to separate a mother from her daughter. I have some ethics, after all."

There was only one thing she could say to all that.

"Oh."

 _ **Demon Lair, Buffy's POV**_

"Now, normally I'd keep things brief and be on my way but you STILL haven't told me what I WANT to HEAR!" she said, breaking an intact bone with every emphasized word.

"ARGH! I-I'm tellin' ya the truth, Slayer!" the ape-faced demon said, laying battered on the floor. "Hargreave's a warlock for hire but I didn't hire him!"

"Then WHO did?" she asked before stomping on one of the demon's few intact bones.

"I dunno! I dunno!" the demon exclaimed in obvious pain. "But whoever did must be loaded because Hargreave doesn't work cheap! You could buy a fleet of ships with what he charges!"

"And you've got nothing else to tell me?" she asked, making it clear that the pain level would go up if she caught him withholding anything from her.

"That's all I know! Please…stop…" the demon said with what little strength it had left.

"Fine," she sighed with disappointment before bringing her foot down on the demons head, crushing it and thereby killing the unnatural creature.

Well this was the fourth target on the list she'd visited and she had only learned three things about the man who'd taken her mother hostage. The first was that he was a warlock for hire, the second was that whoever'd hired him was rich and lastly he normally kept to the big cities and avoided towns like Sunnydale. It made sense since the sort of people wealthy enough to hire him stuck to places like Los Angeles and New York City. However that did little to tell her where her mother was being held and only marginally reduced the number of people in Sunnydale who could've hired Hargreave.

Walking out of the building into the night, she checked her watch to find that it'd been three hours since she'd begun her rampage through the list. Now she only had five more hours before the sun rose and she still had six more to go. Taking the piece of paper with the addresses out of her pocket, she used a pen she'd brought with her to cross off another name before looking at the next one and where she could find it/him/her. Using her knowledge of Sunnydale's layout, she began to run towards her next target all the while hoping that the demon that had the audacity to call itself 'Babe' had more useful information than the last four. If she wanted to turn the tables on Hargreave, she needed to find out where he was and she needed to find out BEFORE time became so valuable that her only option for getting her mother back was complying with the mercenary warlock.

She'd contemplated spinning by Willy's to see what the cockroach had to say but decided not too since the man had Jello for a spine and could be made to say anything for the right price. Considering the fact that Hargreave was a well-paid mercenary, it wasn't out of the question that the asshole might've paid Willy VERY well to lie to her. True, money meant little when you were being physically worked over by a very pissed and brutal Slayer but, depending on the amount, it might be enough to buy quite a bit of obedience from Willy.

Obedience that would take quite a bit of time to beat out of him, along with the information she wanted.

Time she didn't have.

Sadly Willy was really the only source she knew of in Sunnydale, with the rest being known only to Giles, so that meant beating the facts out of the people on the list.

 _Still, at least I'm not alone in all this,_ she thought as she reached out with her Slayer senses to pick up on her 'shadow'. _I'm still going to get him to toss out all those guns when this is all over with. I HATE guns!_

She couldn't argue with how helpful they'd been in keeping the minions of her targets off guard with what she figured had to be a rifle of some kind. Not every shot hit but the sheer randomness between hits and misses only helped with the fear that kept the less confident among them behind cover.

Not that it helped them as a few times Xander must've guessed right about where their heads were when he opened fire and succeeded in hitting his mark.

Between her own skill as the Slayer and his covering fire, the battles at the last four locations had been easier than they probably otherwise would've been. When she'd stormed out of the library she'd been all set to take on her enemies by herself but now she realized that that… maybe… would not have been the wisest thing to do. The minions she'd fought were a lot more organized than most of the demons and vampires she'd fought so far on the Hellmouth. The ones under the Master and Angelus might've been able to take basic orders but complex strategies were just a little over their heads.

She ignored the voice in her mind that pointed out that she wasn't exactly a strategic genius herself.

She preferred the direct approach to most problems and would leave the complex thinking to Giles and Willow and, maybe as a last resort, Xander.

Sure, the soldiery stuff he picked up from Halloween last year had come in real handy with the Judge and the marksmanship he was showing tonight was impressive but she'd yet to hear him say anything to make her believe that he was more tactical than your average teenage guy.

She was about halfway to the location of her next target when she came upon something that had her screech to a halt. Stumbling down the street with the biggest wine bottle she'd ever seen in its hand was a vampire that looked to be almost too drunk to walk. She still wasn't quite sure how a vampire could get drunk considering it was undead and all but she'd come across enough vamps that she'd confirmed hadn't been faking to know they could. However it wasn't the fact that a drunk vamp was tottering down the street that had caused her to come to a complete halt but rather what the intoxicated vampire was babbling about.

"S-s-stupid Dave… kickin' me out of m-my lair… just to… to… kiss up to that warlock asshole…" the vampire slurred before temporarily losing its balance, then regaining it, albeit tentatively. "…s-stupid prick… d-d-d-doesn't realize they're just… using him… *hiccup*… that Hargreave asshole's just… lookin' for… cannon fodder… *hiccup*…"

An instant after hearing her mother's kidnapper mentioned she crossed the distance between her and the vampire, grabbing him by his jacket and slamming him into the nearby telephone pole.

"Where is he? Where is Hargreave!?" she asked angrily, making it clear that a lucid answer would be in the vamp's best interests.

"Ow! That hurt ya know!" the vampire whined before really looking at her. "Huh… you look… really f-f-f-familiar…"

"I'm Buffy the vampire slayer but since you're a vamp just call me the Slayer," she said, introducing herself, hoping that her reputation would at least partially sober him up so she could get some answers.

Watching the expressions shift on the vampire's face, she could tell that his undead brain wasn't quite firing on all cylinders but was still managing to work its way from A to B to C before landing at D. She knew the precise moment when the vamp finally realized just how much trouble he was in when a look of utter fear blossomed on his face.

She also was convinced that he was frightened when she looked down in response to a foul smell to realize that the vamp had pissed himself.

EW! They weren't even supposed to be able to DO that!

"They're in Old Mackenzie Factory! Corner of State and Crawford!" the vampire exclaimed out loud, fear in every word. "It's the truth! I swear!"

"I believe you," she said before plunging her recently palmed stake into the fiend's heart, dusting him.

Normally she believed that when someone helped you, you should return the favor, but in this case it was a vamp and letting him go would only be putting others in mortal danger. Thus the only right course of action was to stake the vamp, putting it out of its obvious misery and preventing it from preying upon the innocent citizens of Sunnydale. Besides, she was fairly sure that Xander would've shot and staked the vamp before it got too far away anyways, but that would've been followed by him getting on her case about letting it walk away free.

No mercy for vampires from that guy.

With that matter handled she broke into a sprint for the factory the vamp had mentioned, wanting to get there before news somehow got back to the warlock Hargreave that he'd been ratted out. Given how loudly the vampire had told her where her mom was, she was pretty sure Xander would be right behind her but, since he couldn't run at Slayer speed, it'd take him longer to get there. A part of her thought about waiting until he caught up with her so that they could go in together but the part of her that wanted to rescue her mother won out. Her mother's life was at stake! She couldn't wait.

So focused was her mind that objects in her way weren't even identified and any pedestrians that might've been out were ignored. She simply navigated around, below or over them depending on what her instincts told her would cost her the least amount of time. To her it didn't matter if people saw her doing superhuman things because, if her mother wound up being killed because she was breaking from Hargreave's rules, nothing else would matter.

She would rescue her mother and tear apart the warlock who took her!

This she VOWED!

 _ **The Streets of Sunnydale, Xander's POV**_

 _Dammit!_ He ran as quickly as he could in the direction of the Mackenzie Factory. _You'd think she would've learned by now that running off halfcocked is a good way to wind up hip deep in trouble!_

Still, if was Willow being held captive he doubted that he'd have done any differently without someone giving me a serious reality check, so he could understand the Slayer. It didn't make him fear for his friend any less so he increased his pace as best he could despite the weight of the weapons strapped to or hanging from his body. He ignored the strange looks that the few people who were out were giving him as he passed them and instead focused on the mental map of Sunnydale he had in his head. Being one of the school outcasts, there'd been numerous times when he'd had to run from bullies and, considering he could bump into them anywhere, he knew of every escape route in Sunnydale. Using them as a guide, he could cut through to the factory in less time than if he used the streets and sidewalks.

Too bad some other type of demon had the same idea and, judging by its sharp teeth, it most definitely was not a plant eater. Seeing it raise its clawed appendages in obvious preparation to grab him, his hands acted on reflex, bringing the shotgun to bear before pulling the trigger. The shots boomed out of the barrel one after another at the demon, with only a slight pause as he pumped, and the lack of a stock made him have to focus on his aim. Every shot that hit gouged out a piece of the demon's flesh while pushing it back one to two steps and, by the time it ran dry the demon was on the ground either dead or too injured to move right away. Sprinting past it, he continued on his way to the factory, arriving in just a little over fifteen minutes but, judging by the broken door, Buffy was already inside.

The sounds of things breaking and baddies crying out in pain also confirmed that the Slayer was doing her thing inside.

Given that it was going to be close quarters inside the building, he reloaded the shotgun and prepared it for use. Calling on as much of the soldier as he had left inside of him, he entered the building, making sure to check all the corners before proceeding further. It didn't take him long to find the room Buffy was fighting in but, rather than just going right in, he flattened himself to the wall to the left of the doorway and peeked inside. The opposition was mostly vampires, along with some fiercer looking demons, but despite being outnumbered Buffy was still managing to march towards victory. Still, they were delaying her and that could be what the warlock needed to harm Joyce, so he decided to take tactical advantage of the Slayer's ass kicking to look around. Slinking past the door, he proceeded deeper into the factory, always peeking around corners from safety before going around them since he had no desire to literally run into unnecessary trouble.

When it came to doors he passed along the way, he tested the knobs first to see if they were even locked and, if they were, a kick was thrown and, if THAT didn't work, single shot from his shotgun fixed that problem, letting him look inside. If it turned out that they weren't locked he just quietly opened them up before peeking inside. Most of them were empty, though, and the few of them that were occupied by vamps or demons got to have the special feeling of seeing a grenade tossed inside and the door slammed shut. It played merry hell with his hearing and once or twice it'd been a close call getting the door shut, but it worked. It wasn't until he reached what had to be the far side of the factory that he saw an indicator that he'd managed to find where they were holding Joyce. Standing guard in front of a door were two vamps wearing suits but, for some reason, his instincts were telling him that they weren't your standard bloodsuckers. Instead he got the impression that it might be in his best interests to wait until Buffy finished up with the lesser threats and teamed up with him.

The universe, in its infinite dickery and partially to his own stupidity, decided to take the choice from him.

Almost as one the vamps sniffed the air and they looked right at him, so he knew he'd been made. He could've run for it since he had the feeling that the duo wouldn't abandon their posts just for one guy like him but, with Joyce so close, he couldn't bring himself to do it. Charging around the corner with his shotgun brought to bear, he pulled the trigger, hoping to take them down before they could show him empirically just how different they were from their commonplace cousins.

Too bad that they proved themselves different from the usual vamps he dealt with by moving at a speed that made it extremely difficult for him to get a bead on them. In fact, he was pretty sure that they'd get to him before he managed to land a debilitating shot against them, so he decided to use their speed to his advantage.

He dropped the shotgun on its sling and plucked a grenade off the belt he'd hooked it on, pulling the pin and casually rolling it in the direction of the oncoming vampires. He knew he was taking a serious chance with his life since, if the backwards push with his legs didn't send him far enough away, he'd wind up killing himself. According to official stats anything within five meters would be killed by the blast while anything within two hundred and thirty could still be injured by the explosion and shrapnel. So long as he could still walk and the vamps were dead, he was okay with a few cuts or bruises but chance would play a big part in how cut up he got. Mentally keeping track of the four second delay between letting go of the grenade he, on a long shot, altered his trajectory in the hopes of getting back around the corner he'd so recently charged out from in the hopes of putting something between him and the blast.

He was only partially successful.

Only half of him managed to get around the corner but the lower half of his legs caught some frag, tearing open bleeding wounds and causing him to wince in pain. However, as he found out when he tried to stand up, the damage was not so bad that he wouldn't be able to at least walk under his own power, though he had some doubts that he'd be able to run, much less sprint. As luck would have it running didn't seem to be in the cards since neither of the two vamps that'd been guarding the door had come around the corner to tear him limb from limb. Walking slowly and cautiously towards the last place he saw the vamps, he found one of them missing a limb or two while the other looked like he'd taken some frag to the neck cutting a major artery. While a vamp wouldn't die from blood loss, it would make them decidedly more eager to replenish the blood they'd lost. The one still standing had noticed him but, when it tried to come after him, the movements were decidedly slower and somewhat unsteady.

"Okay, fangface. It's off to the dustbin for you," he said as he took careful aim with the shotty. "I guarantee you, you won't be lonely."

The vamp tried to dodge but, fortunately for him, it had lost enough blood that his movements were slowed down by a measurable amount. Both shots hit their mark, obliterating the bloodsucker's motionless heart, causing it to turn to dust in an instant.

The ghost of a DI screamed at him to not dick around, to end the threat, but he was a mouthy teenager… so he talked. "Now, I know what you're thinking: It's not fair! He used a grenade!" He lined up a headshot. "The thing is… fair? Unfair? I'm the guy with the gun."

BOOM!

With decapitation successfully accomplished, he free to enter the room they'd been guarding and rescue Joyce. Moving forward, he carefully opened the formerly guarded door and stepped inside to find that his hunch was right because standing in the middle of a glowing arcane circle was none other than Joyce Summers. She didn't look too good but, from what he could tell, she hadn't lost consciousness so that was a good thing but he'd definitely need to get her out of there before whatever magic was going on finished.

"Hang on Missus S!" he said as he moved to remove the chains from her wrists. "I'll have you free in a jiffy!"

He took all of three steps before something hard and heavy hit him in the back of the head, sending him to the floor, barely conscious.

"I'm afraid that won't do, young man," a guy said from behind where he'd been. "I'll admit that I didn't foresee one of the Slayer's friends using modern weaponry in the attack or that she'd take on the distractions meant to keep her group occupied. Nevertheless, I won't have you ruining my operation. Instead I think I'll make this into a three person trip instead of a two person trip."

Before he could do more than roll over onto his back, he felt a force lift him off the floor before taking him over to where Joyce was and rudely dropping him on the ground. His head was clouding up and his balance was beginning to become questionable, making him believe that the blow to the head might've given him a concussion of some sort. He tried through will alone to shove aside the disorienting effects of the concussion so he could still work to free Joyce but that only seemed to further aggravate his condition.

"I'll let you keep your weapons," the man who'd attacked him from behind said with whimsical generosity. "You'll need them where you're going."

 _ **Buffy's POV**_

"Get the hell out of my way!" she screamed before she executed a series of attacks with her damaged blade and the lead pipe she'd pried off the wall earlier.

At first her fighting had been structured and efficient, using every lesson Giles had ever taught her in order to dispatch those who stood in her way as quickly as possible. She'd like to think that if her Watcher had been there to witness it all, he would be quite proud of the way she'd been fighting in the beginning. However, as time passed and the number of enemies didn't seem to be going down, her usual lack of patience began to compel her to hit harder as well as faster. However this'd shown signs of being a mistake after a while as she began to take hits she knew she shouldn't have. Even as the pain from the hits had forced her to dial back her impatience, the damage had been done, making certain actions painful to do even if they were necessary. Still, it hadn't quite gotten to the point where she'd have to consider retreating or abandon all hope of rescuing her mother.

Especially since she had a sneaking feeling that Xander had gotten into the building.

She didn't know what he was doing but, since none of the baddies attacking her had used a single gun or bomb on her, the noises she'd heard earlier could only have been Xander. If he was going ahead to rescue her mom then she knew he'd at least be able to keep anything serious from happening to her until she got there.

 _Which is getting more and more like it'll be in an hour with the way these guys are dropping._ She barely managed a two swing and a kick combo on a particularly troublesome baddie.

There had to be some way of clearing a path for herself other than beating the crap out of every baddie in the room but she just wasn't able to come up with anything. That was until she looked up at the ceiling to see the still installed sprinkler system and an epiphany of an idea came to mind that just might work.

It'd worked on that vessel guy during the Harvest.

Looking about the room whenever she got a break in the fighting, she soon found the switch for the fire alarm which, if memory served her correctly, would also trigger the sprinklers. With that done she began to battle her way over to it, using both her weapons and her legs to brush the enemies aside even if it was only long enough for her to get through. Once arrived at her destination, she turned to the vampires and demons even as she reached up to grasp the switch, a smile on her face.

"Well, it's been fun, guys, but by now my friends've finished blessing the water source for the sprinklers, so it's time to spring the trap." She pulled the switch. "Hope you guys like a holy water shower!"

For once things went her way as water immediately began to fall from the sprinklers even as the sound of an alarm cut through the air. Just liked she'd planned the vamps and the demons actually bought her lie about Giles and the others blessing the water supply, with some leaving the room while the others just covered their heads with their arms. Taking advantage of this she ran for the nearest door in the direction of the all the shooting and the explosion from earlier, figuring she could either hook up with Xan or burst into the right room just in time to save her mother. Once her mom was free she'd tell her best guy friend to pull out and they'd call it a win.

Bursting through the door, she slammed it shut and then quickly used the lead pipe she'd used as an improvised weapon to wedge it shut. It likely wouldn't last too long against demonic strength but so long as it lasted long enough for her to get herself along with the people she cared about out and away, she didn't care. Moving quickly in the direction of the building where the shots had come from, it didn't take long to find the fight location since there was damage to the walls and two humanoid shaped piles of vampire ash on the ground. Seeing it all, she was unsure whether she should be impressed or worried that her friend could do so much damage. In the end though she only reaffirmed her initial opinion that the military weapons Xander had acquired were too dangerous and impractical to slayage. They lacked precision and carried too great a risk of accidentally harming bystanders.

Going to the door that likely was her ultimate destination, she pushed it open and put her best 'today is NOT a good day to mess with me' look on her face.

It faltered a bit at what she inside.

There was an arcane circle in the center of the room, glowing brightly enough to light up the entire room better than any lightbulb.

Her mother was in chains in the center of the circle, looking like she was in the middle of a dizzy spell but still conscious.

Xander was at her feet, looking like he was trying to get to his feet but the wobbling indicated that this was proving to potentially be more than he was capable of at the moment.

Lastly there was a man in a suit that practically screamed 'big boss' surrounded by minions, all of whom were currently chanting up a storm.

None of this boded well AT ALL.

"Well done, Slayer," the leader said with a smarmy smile. "You managed to get past the obstacles I set in your way a little quicker than expected. We're not quite ready for you."

"Oh, you're ready, alright!" she said, bringing her sword up in preparation for cutting the enemy in half. "Ready to find out firsthand if a sword this banged up can cut through each and every one of you?"

With that she charged forward, determined to slice up the minions before they could finish whatever chant they were doing and then go after their leader. They made it really convenient for her since apparently they couldn't move while doing their thing, so one by one they fell to her blade. THEN it was time for the man who'd orchestrated the whole affair to feel the pain of impalement, so she thrust the tip of her sword towards his throat, figuring if that didn't kill him she could still decapitate him. However, inches before the point would've touched bare skin, a field of energy popped into existence, proving to be as hard as concrete since her weapon just stopped upon hitting it.

"Ah, ah, AH! It won't be so easy as that, Slayer." The man sounded quite cocky. "I haven't lived this long by being that easy to kill. Care to try again?"

Bringing up her sword for another, even harder swing, she paused just as she began when she considered something. Wasn't this guy being a little too provocative and encouraging in her efforts to break his barrier and come after him? Could he be trying to trick her into wasting time? It made sense so she turned from him, walking into the now-harmless arcane circle, intent on slicing through the chains binding her mother. With her first swing she was encouraged since she could already see the damage, making her believe that it'd take maybe five swings to each chain to free her mother. However, as she prepared for her second swing, the sound of chuckling caught her attention since it was never a good idea for the big bad to be laughing like that.

"You're just as predictable as my employer said you'd be, Slayer." the man said with great confidence. "You no doubt thought that by killing my minions you stopped the spell. Permit me to inform you that all you did was stop them from using the enchantment that kept the spell in check. With it gone… well, I guess it's a good thing you decided to travel light. Goodbye, Slayer!"

With that the man tossed what looked to be a common quarter in her direction and she recognized that it was likely to be the proverbial match that'd lead to the magical fire at her feet being lit. Her immediate instinct was to flee, to get out of the circle, but her love for her mother stayed her feet and thus her falling victim to the warlock seemed certain.

Certain were it not for what happened next.

Strong hands clamped onto her shoulders and then, with surprising strength, she was thrown through the air, making a part of her compliment whoever'd done it for the height and distance they were managing. It was close but, if whoever had thrown her had done so with the intent of tossing her clear of the arcane circle, then they succeeded albeit by the slimmest of margins. Turning around to look back the way they'd come, she was surprised to find out that it was Xander who'd thrown her and, while it looked like he'd fall over at any second, he had his usual lopsided grin on his face.

"Give'em hell!" Xander said with a goofy thumbs up that was just so him.

Before she could say anything to him like 'get out of the circle', the light coming from the drawing on the floor flared with newfound strength, forcing her to look away and shield her eyes. She didn't know how much time passed before the light began to dim to the point where she could look back at where her mother and Xander had been but, when it did, she beheld an earthshattering sight.

There was nothing.

Where once there had been her mother trapped in chains and her best guy friend wobbling on his feet with his lopsided grin there was now nothing but an arcane circle that seemed to be evaporating into nothing with every second that passed. Her mind immediately went to a worst case scenario, that the two of them had been killed, and it would not be an understatement that she was on the verge of suffering a mental break. She'd just lost her mother and someone who, despite how she acted, she was grateful to for saving her life that first year. Her mindscape teetered between collapsing into a vacant void and exploding with a rage that knew no bounds or satisfaction.

As luck would have it, her mind got a helping hand.

"Well, this certainly didn't turn out the way I'd intended," the big bad said like someone who'd cooked a disappointing meal. "Still, two out of three isn't bad and I'm sure I can sell this to my client as a 'job accomplished'. After all, with trauma like this, all he'll have to do is threaten her remaining allies to paralyze her into indecision."

 _Threaten… my friends._

Fury and the destruction of the one responsible for the pain buried beneath the fury were the only things that existed in her mind at that point. She did not perceive her body raising itself off the floor, nor did she detect the odd feeling rippling through the air. With a growl that was more animal than human she charged the cause of her pain, bringing back her right fist with the full intention of putting it through the bastard's head. However, just as before with her sword, the barrier surrounding the warlock stopped the attack from landing and an infuriatingly smug smile grew bigger on his face.

Right up until the protective field showed slight signs of wavering seconds after the punch impacted it.

This sign of progress, of its potential breach, was all her fury needed to begin raining down blow after blow on the field, ignoring completely the damage she was doing to her hands in the process.

Ignoring the barely perceivable wisps of black mist rising up off her exposed flesh.

It would only be an hour later that the remaining members of the Scooby gang would arrive to find the factory deserted, Buffy with her knees tucked to her chest and a bloody, unidentifiable corpse laying in a pool of its own blood.

It would be hours before they managed to coax her out of her thoughts in order to find out what'd happened but, when they discovered the truth, the effects were almost as dramatic for them as it'd been for her. Willow broke down crying and wound up being sedated before being taken to the hospital until she calmed down enough that there was no fear of her harming herself in her sorrow. Giles did his best to remain strong for Buffy since she no longer had family to lean on and regularly paid visits to Willow in the hospital until she was discharged under the supervision of her returned parents. Nevertheless, he suffered too for, as infuriating as Xander had been, he'd still come to view the boy as a sort of surrogate son.

All members of the Scooby gang were bombarded with questions they posed to themselves. Would things have turned out differently if they'd left with either Buffy or Xander? Had there been some resource they had failed to tap that would've made things turn out better? In the end they realized that such questions were pointless as time only moved in one direction.

All they could do was take things as they were now and begin working towards the goal of preventing such tragedy from happening again in the future.

But that is a story for another time.


	2. The Starting Line of a New Path

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the copyrighted material contained herein. They are the rightful property of their respective creators and/or the associated companies. I make no profit from this whatsoever and I have no intention of changing that in the future. I write because it's fun and because there are those who enjoy my work.

 _ **A Higher Plane of Existence**_

"Are you sure this is permitted?" she asked as she turned to her fellow ascended. "Could this not constitute interfering with the lower planes?"

"No. They had already left the lower planes when I interfered, so it should not give the Others cause to be upset," Oma Desala replied even as the bodies of Alexander Harris and Joyce Summers hovered before them in stasis. "It is, as the humans would put it, a loophole that I chose to exploit."

"What now? You will not be permitted to return them to their dimension without the Others intervening," she said, knowing that the law of nonintervention would come back into play the moment the lower planes became involved.

"The warlock's original banishment spell would have sent the two of them to an alternate Earth devastated by war, with the likelihood of them being able to survive to be almost nonexistent," Oma Desala explained, her eyes never leaving the two humans. "Fortunately for these two an unintended variable was entered into Elias Hargreave's plans that he could not have foreseen. Him."

Looking closer at the young man that Oma had pointed to, she tried to perceive what was so special about the boy that an opening could be made to act. When nothing on the surface proved to be sufficient to warrant a change in the usual restrictions she looked deeper to what lay within. Deeper and deeper she went until she was looking at his very DNA and it was there that she began to see what her defiant colleague was referring to.

"He is of THAT man's bloodline!?" she asked in shock since this went against everything she thought she knew. "I thought they died out during those horrible crusades the Powers That Be started."

"Indeed, so did I and the Others, but the proof is before you." A smile of hope graced her face. "Alexander Harris is no mere scientific construct made from discovered remains laid in ancient graves or some nameless inheritor plucked from the past and deposited in the present. You need only look to see the signs of centuries being bridged between then and now. He is of that bloodline and through him I can send the both of them to a dimension far more likely to meet with their approval than the one Hargreave had intended to send them to."

"You intended to send them to the Place of Beginning?" she asked, not quite shocked but still unsure if it was the right course of action. "Our ancestors left that place millennia ago and have never once considered returning to it. You do not know what it is like there. You could be sending them to a worse dimension than the one the Warlock intended."

"No. Just as HE had faith in HER, so shall I," Oma said as she began the process by which to send the two mortals to what would be their new home. "However to do this properly I will need your help. Change of this magnitude can only come through sacrifice and, for what I have in mind, I need your help. Will you aid me?"

She considered the question and the request.

Oma was considered something of a rebel among their ascended kind, skating dangerously close to breaking the rules they'd created upon reaching this level of existence, and as such only a rare few chose to interact with her on this level. What she was proposing was something that would definitely be noticed by the Others, even if it did not involve the lower planes of this dimension. The question then became if it would be enough to warrant punishment? In the end she decided that it'd be more likely to slip by unnoticed if she helped than if Oma did it on her own and just by knowing what the woman had planned without raising the alarm right away would get her into trouble.

"Fine," she said, hoping she didn't come to regret her decision. "Let's get this over with before sanity or common sense changes my mind."

"Thank you," Oma said with genuine gratitude in her voice and expression. "Let us begin."

They raised their hands to the pair before them and, with their power, began the process of changing what they wished to change before sending the duo on their way. While she couldn't recall this often being done, it was comparable to many other powers and abilities that she did not fear failure or there being any undesirable consequences. Bit by bit the two mortals before them began to physically reverse in age, year by year, until instead of a woman in her late thirties early forties and a teenage male there were two humans roughly six months old.

"We will need to erase their memories if this is truly to be a new beginning for them," she said as they ceased using their abilities. "If they awaken there with their memories untouched it will only make it harder for them and draw unnecessary attention to them."

"I agree that something must be done but I do not believe we must go to the extreme of erasing them," Oma said with a look of consideration on her face. "Better to bury them in their subconscious minds. If we ensure that they will not be released until they're physically and mentally mature enough to handle them, everything should work out."

"And if they try to return to their native dimension?" she asked, feeling it was important to point this out.

"Assuming they find a way to it will mean that they've obtained impressive resources with which to aid the SGC in their current struggle." Oma replied as light drifted from the woman's right hand to the foreheads of both the mortals. "And those yet to come."

"Is that what you're hoping will happen or what you think will happen?" she asked, wondering just how far the woman's ambitions went.

"Anything is possible, Ganos," Oma replied before with a wave of her hand the mortals vanished across the dimensional divide. "One of the blessings of free will is that it means the future is always shifting. No one, not even we Ascended, know what the future will bring as a result."

She had to admit that while many mortals made the mistake of viewing ascended beings as deities and therefore invincible, that was not in fact the case.

Still, she had to wonder at what she might have put into motion just now.

Would it turn out to be a good thing or a bad one?

She wasn't sure she wanted to find out.

 _ **Dimension 1115-2001**_

 _ **Procyon System, Arcadia**_

 _ **The City of Avalon**_

 _ **Saint Joseph's Orphanage**_

 _ **January 31**_ _ **st**_ _ **, 2511**_

Sister Sandra sighed in satisfaction as she finished washing the last of the dishes before putting the wash cloth where Sister Elizabeth would know to take it to be washed with the rest of the laundry. It had been particularly hard today after the less than successful efforts by her and the other sisters to teach the children to cook some basic meals. While normally this wasn't done, she'd proposed it thinking that the little ones might find it fun and that it would prepare them for the day they left the orphanage. Unfortunately it'd gotten a little too fun for the children and two of them had decided to begin adding new ingredients to the recipe with no regard for whether or not they belonged there. Fortunately she and Sister Margaret had managed to intervene before the meal became completely unsalvageable and, while it'd made cleaning the dishes harder, she felt it'd been worth it.

Leaving the kitchen she began to make her way to her modest room so that she could get some sleep and gain the strength she would need for tomorrow's activities. Despite the service they provided to all of Arcadia and some of the neighboring colonies, theirs was not a wealthy orphanage, with a great deal of their funds coming from charitable contributions. As a result they did as much as they could to make themselves self-sufficient so what money they did have to spend was kept to a minimum. They had a garden in the backyard that was a mix of fruits, vegetables and various cooking spices. As part of a charitable donation by a fairly well-off company, the money came accompanied by a water filtration system that allowed them to recycle the water they used to a certain degree. They also had a special arrangement with a local clinic that the children could go there for their yearly checkups and, so long as it didn't get too expensive, they could also receive basic medicine.

Funds were still to be used with the utmost care, though, and anytime they discovered a means by which they could stretch every credit a little bit further they used it.

When she reached the bottom of the main staircase, she smiled at the sight of Sister Miranda, who had obviously finished with her job of balancing the orphanages books.

"Good evening, Sister Miranda," she said with a nod of acknowledgment to her friend and co-worker. "I'm guessing that we've made it through another month without going bankrupt."

"Indeed, but it was closer than it was last year." Sister Miranda said with a small smile and a return nod. "With all the strife in the colonies, things are getting decidedly more expensive than before it all started."

She could only nod in agreement as she recalled how things had begun seventeen years ago, when various members of the outer colonies had begun to voice discontent over the oversights perpetrated by the Colonial Administration Authority. Many were sick and tired of the organization's bureaucracy but in the beginning it'd only been peaceful protests and various negotiation meetings in the hopes of a more palatable agreement could be reached. Sadly some groups became frustrated with the less than fruitful bargaining sessions and began to employ more forceful tactics before abandoning diplomacy all together and engaging in terrorist acts. It saddened her to see such violent actions and she prayed that both sides would break free from the insanity of it all so that reason could once more take hold and diplomacy could begin anew.

Until then, though, the difficulty and danger of transporting goods between Earth's colonies would ensure that the prices for various goods would only go up.

DING!DONG!

"Who could that be?" she asked even as she moved to the front door in response to the doorbell being rung.

"I don't know. We aren't expecting any deliveries," Sister Miranda replied as she followed.

Reaching out she opened the door to see who had chosen to visit them at this time of night. Her puzzlement only grew when she found no one outside the orphanage, nor was there anyone either up or down the street as far as her eyes could see. It wasn't until she heard the sound of scraping fabric that she looked down to see something straight out of fictional story from one of the books in the orphanage's library.

A baby in a basket, wrapped in a blanket, with a sheet of paper secured to it with a safety pin.

"Oh my! What is this?" she asked as she knelt down to take the sheet of paper, hoping it explained why a baby had been deposited on their doorstep with nary a word.

"What does it say, Sister Sandra?" Sister Miranda asked with concern and mild curiosity.

"'To the benevolent sisters of the Saint Joseph's Orphanage, I come to you with the most important of requests. Before you is my son Alexander and, as much as it shames me to say so, I have not the means nor the right to care for him as a parent should. With my carelessness I have placed both of us in dire trouble and cannot hope to keep both of us from it. It is my hope that by placing him in your care I may save at least him from the repercussions of my actions. Do not look for me and if he should ever ask, tell him that I loved him and hope that he lives a good life and walks tall. Farewell.'"

To say that she was troubled by what she'd read would be an understatement but it made her wish to care for the baby as she set the letter aside in order to pick him up. With little bits of dark brown hair on his head he looked truly adorable sleeping in her arms and it implied that he likely was quite tired. Given the tone and contents of the letter, she could only imagine what the poor dear had been through with the parent whom she presumed was the boy's mother.

"What should we do?" Sister Miranda asked, sounding conflicted on the next course of action.

"We shall do as the child's parent requested," she replied decisively, as though to her there was no other choice.

"But shouldn't we contact the Arcadian Patrol?" Sister Miranda asked, sounding like this was the way she was leaning. "The boy's mother might still be alive and could be rescued."

"And if they are the ones who threatened the mother and child?" she asked pointedly as she herself considered the possibility. "With insurrectionists appearing everywhere, how can we be certain they have not infiltrated the Arcadian Patrol? If the trouble the mother speaks of is the Insurrection we would be delivering her child into their arms. No. We will take this boy in and care for him as we have the others. I shall speak with the Reverend Mother in the morning and explain the situation. I am sure she will agree."

With that she began to walk towards the stairs, intent on getting a cradle from storage and placing it in her room for the time being. Until Alexander was old enough to sleep in his own bed he would need someone close by to care for him and, given the decision she had just made, it only made sense for her to take responsibility for that care.

Looking down at the sleeping child, she couldn't help but wonder at his heritage and feel curious at how the boy's future would unfold.

 _ **Three Years Later**_

 _ **Alexander's POV**_

"WEEWOOWEEWOOWEEWOO!" he yelled as he pretended that he was one of the patrol cars that he'd seen going down the street when he was helping Sister Sandy.

It was so much fun pretending that he was going around town helping people that he wanted to do it forever. With his hands gripping a pretend steering wheel he ran about his home's yard, going wherever seemed good at the time. As he moved about he could see Lana and Bobby playing in the sandbox while Chris and Donald helped Sister Mir-an-da in the garden picking yucky veg-it-ables. He hated veg-it-ables! Sister Sandy said he needed to eat them though if he wanted any ice cream or choc-o-late so he ate what he could and hid the rest when they weren't looking. Sometimes he stuffed them in his pockets and other times he just wrapped them in his napkin when he could sneak them in.

It didn't always work, though.

When he got caught they stared at him and made him eat every last veg-it-able, sometimes taking more from other plates as pun-ish-ment.

Turning away from the garden he started to go back towards the front of his home but, as he got closer, he heard the sound of a car coming. Curious as always he ran towards the gate to see if the car was going to stop or keep on going. When he turned the corner he saw Sister Mir-an-da standing by the gate with Mommy Rev-rend, like they were waiting for someone. Coming to a stop he watched intently to see what was going to happen.

It turned out that the car he'd heard coming was one of the patrol cars and this only heightened his curiosity since they didn't usually come unless one of the sisters or Mommy Rev-rend called them for something. Curious he crept over to a nearby bush and hid behind it so no one would see him, peeking over the top so he could see everything that went on. When the car came to an end he saw a man in a patrol uniform get out first and then go around to the other side of the car, opening the back door on that side. When that door was fully open a woman in a suit like he'd seen in parts of the city got out before reaching in for something he couldn't see. He was curious and thought maybe that someone was delivering an important present and that's why they needed someone from the patrol to bring it.

He was only a little disappointed when he saw a blonde girl wearing a flower dress get out and take the woman's hand.

The girl looked to be about his age but was quite shy as she kept herself half behind the leading woman's left leg and it didn't get any better once the two of them were standing in front of Mommy Rev-rend and Sister Mir-an-da.

"This is the little girl you were talking about on the phone?" Mommy Rev-rend asked with a smile as she looked at the little blonde girl.

"Yes. Her name is Joyce Archer," the woman in the suit said with a nod of her head. "As I explained she's been through quite a lot and thus far we haven't been able to determine if she has any living relatives willing to take her in. With all the new regulations the almighty UNSC has been putting into effect, finding her a new family would take forever so having her stay with you would be the best option."

"Well, there's always room for one more here at Saint Joseph's," Mommy Rev-rend said with the smile he liked so much before kneeling down so she was eye level with the girl. "Hello Joyce. How are you today?"

He couldn't hear what the girl said from where he was but he could see her lips moving and Mommy Rev-rend looked happy with what she heard.

"Well, I hope you'll have many happy days ahead of you," Mommy Rev-rend said as she stood. "In fact I can think of one person who'd be happy to show you around… ISN'T THAT RIGHT ALEXANDER?"

 _How does she do that?_ he thought as he emerged from behind the bush and walked towards where Mommy Rev-rend and the others were standing. _I was super duper quiet._

Indeed, ever since he had learned how much fun it was to sneak up on people, he'd made it a goal of his to do it to everyone in the orphanage. However no matter how many times he tried to sneak up on Mommy Rev-rend, she always caught him before he could scare her and acted like she knew he'd been there the entire time. He hadn't gotten discouraged after the first failure and had tried again and again with the latest count as of yesterday being… being… well, he couldn't count that high yet but it was a lot. All of them had ended in failure but he'd gotten close a few times, so he knew all he had to do was keep on trying and he'd succeed eventually.

Arriving next to Mommy Rev-rend he looked over at Joyce and he could see she was scared of his home but he figured that that was just because she didn't know anything about it yet. It could be scary not knowing stuff but when it was 'splained to you, all the butterflies in your stomach went away.

"Alexander? Would you show Joyce around the orphanage?" Mommy Rev-rend asked, looking down at him.

"Sure," he said before turning his gaze from her to Joyce and holding out his hand. "Want to come with me? I can show you all the fun places here!"

The girl began to reach out to take his hand but then stopped, like she was thinking about changing her mind and he tried to think of something else to convince her it was okay. In the end all he could think to do was put on his best grin, the one he used when he knew everything was going to be okay, and hope it made her feel the same way. For a little while it didn't look like it worked but, just before he was about to look to Mommy Rev-rend, Joyce grabbed his hand real quick. Letting his grin turn into a smile he began to pull her towards his house since to him the best stuff was inside.

He'd show Joyce that this was a fun place to live and wasn't even a bit scary!

 _ **One Year Later, Sister Sandra's POV**_

"I swear he's a bad influence on her." Sister Miranda sighed as she came into the library looking somewhat exasperated.

"What have they done now?" she asked, feeling a little amused at her friend's exasperation.

"I had just handed the Reverend Mother her cup of tea when she asked for a bit of milk like she always does. Imagine my surprise when as I tipped the container only for a dark blue liquid to flow out into her tea." Sister Miranda replied, sounding somewhat annoyed with what'd happened. "Naturally the two of us were quite shocked and I immediately stopped pouring since I didn't yet know what I'd been pouring into the tea cup. Fortunately the Reverend Mother quickly determined that it was indeed milk like it was supposed to be but somehow it'd changed color."

She had a feeling she knew where this was going.

"Before we could even begin to figure out how this had happened both of us heard laughter from just outside the door," Sister Miranda explained, her annoyance not dimming. "It didn't take me long to figure out what'd happened. Obviously someone had played a prank and, when I threw open the door to see who the guilty persons were, I saw both Alexander and Joyce running around the corner."

"I imagine they probably put some food coloring into the tea milk when you weren't looking," she said after taking a few minutes to deduce how the duo had accomplished their task. "It's something of a classic prank among children."

"Truthfully I could care less if it was a classic or not," Sister Miranda said as she sat down in a nearby vacant chair. "I'm more worried about how things might escalate as they get older. Unless they realize that actions have consequences they will only get into more and more trouble."

"You make it sound as though this prank is setting them on the road to becoming criminals, Sister Miranda." she said with a little teasing in her voice.

"Don't be ridiculous!" Sister Miranda said defensively. "I just think that one day they might take their fun too far and someone is going to get seriously hurt. Pranksters always try to outdo themselves."

"Perhaps," she conceded since it was indeed a common point of youth that they often sought new heights of fun to enjoy.

Still, she couldn't help but smile at yet more proof that Alex and Joyce continued to be good friends even a year after the little girl had arrived at the orphanage. While the other kids weren't strangers to the blonde girl, Joyce didn't act quite as freely around them as she did Alexander and she was definitely more relaxed around him. While not what she could call inseparable, she could definitely see the two of them staying friends well into adulthood, so even if they were not someday adopted they would never be alone.

"You know we need to do something before they get too set on having fun and not caring about the consequences." Sister Miranda said, obviously not willing to let the matter drop.

"Very well," she said, deciding that it would be best to appease her friend. "I'll have a word with them later and teach them to be more mindful of others. I'm sure they'll understand."

"Let us hope that a light warning is all it will take," Sister Miranda said as she relaxed in her chair, gazing at the sunny day shining outside the only window in the room.

She was sure that it would be all that was necessary to make sure that Alex and Joyce kept their pranks harmless. They were both good children who always tried to help out around the orphanage if they could. Of course she made sure that they weren't given chores that they were too young to perform properly or that might be even a little dangerous. From what she could tell both of them were becoming competent in the kitchen and could follow a recipe they were given fairly well. Perhaps they'd open a restaurant when they got out of high school. If they did and it was on Arcadia she'd be certain to pay them a visit to see if their cooking had gotten any better since they lived at the orphanage.

The future seemed to be quite promising for those two.

 _ **A Year and a Half Later, Planet Arcadia, Avalon**_

 _ **Doctor Catherine Elizabeth Halsey's POV**_

"Just how many of these 'subjects' are we going to be visiting in person, Doctor?" Lieutenant Keyes asked as they drove down a street in the city of Avalon on the planet Arcadia.

"While you're not cleared for all the details of my work, lieutenant, I can tell you that originally the number of subjects to be selected for candidacy was three hundred," she replied as she half paid attention to the conversation and half on the mental map of the city in her mind's eye. "However due to repeated funding issues that number was reduced to seventy-five. Don't worry, though, we won't be inspecting all of them. Only the exceptional ones."

As had been prescribed in her original project outline to the ONI brass for the SPARTAN II Program extensive gene screening was done from a candidate pool gathered via the CAA's Outer Colony vaccination program. Many thousands of children had samples of their blood taken and then analyzed to see if they matched the two dominant criteria: that they could from a physiological standpoint withstand the augmentation procedures she'd recommended and that they represented the best humanity had to offer both physically as well as mentally. While obviously only limited results about their mental aptitude could be ascertained from DNA, it did help to reduce the list of candidates by a respectable amount.

She'd already reviewed the information gleaned from the genetic analysis of the various subjects since she did not believe that anything could be left to chance. While many of the subjects that had passed scrutiny by an acceptable margin, only five of them could be said to match all the genetic requirements to a percentage consistent with natural reproduction. The only way they could reach one hundred percent would be if they'd been created in a laboratory with cutting edge equipment designed specifically for tailor making a human with painstaking care to detail. During the time in which she'd formulated her proposal to the ONI brass she had considered doing precisely that but it hadn't taken long for her to realize that the financial costs alone would make it impractical. Add to that the fact that human science had yet to successfully clone a human being and genetically altering an artificial human to meet very specific criteria would be impossible.

"So which one are we here to 'reconnoiter'?" Lieutenant Keyes asked as he continued to navigate the busy streets to the destination point she'd set.

"Subject zero seven zero," she replied, keeping herself from referring to the future soldier by name. "According to records the subject has been at Saint Joseph's Orphanage for over two years since the Insurrectionist bombing of the Luxor spacesport on Eridanus II."

"You mean her family-?" Keyes asked, no doubt recalling both the news broadcasts and UNSC briefings on the incident.

"All of the subject's immediate family were killed in the explosion and efforts to locate more distant relations are slow going. As you can imagine with the growing threat of the Insurrectionists the UNSC and UEG have been heightening security both in travel as well as communication between colonies," she replied while emphasizing the more objective label of zero seven zero. "This will make it easier to assume custody when the time comes."

Thinking about that stage of the plan still left her troubled but, from an intellectual standpoint, she knew that it was necessary. Even given the sheer number of citizens in the Outer Colonies, seventy-five children going missing would attract unwanted attention from conventional law enforcement as well as parts of the UNSC who weren't cleared to now about the Program. Given the ethical… difficulties of her Program, it wouldn't do for it to become public knowledge or even to reach the ears of unauthorized enlisted personnel. Therefore in order to neutralize that particular problem, flash clones would be created for each subject and covertly switched out when the right opportunity presented itself. The flash clones wouldn't last long after their initial creation and they wouldn't be able to perfectly mimic the originals in terms of behavior and personality. Due to their accelerated aging they would be afflicted with numerous biological defects in their bodies and even with the latest methods of 'teaching' them at an accelerated rate, they would seem… wrong… in how they behaved. They'd lack all of the personal earmarks that could only be acquired through firsthand experience of an event and even their ability to express human emotions would be hindered.

This was to be expected since they could only imprint cold facts into the flash clones rather than memories with emotional flavoring.

Fortunately it hadn't been difficult to find a suitable excuse in the records that would explain both the physical problems as well as the psychological deficiencies. ONI agents were already in place to ensure that the cover story would be fed to the necessary people as it became necessary. Should any discrepancies between the flash clones' symptoms and recorded 'facts' occur, it would be explained away as one of the 'mysteries of the human body' or a new strain of the affliction.

Still… imagining the pain that would be felt as the flash clones' health declined and the grief once they perished… she could only reassure herself that it was the lesser of two evils.

Seeing them reach less than two blocks from the destination on the car's nav-system, she looked for a building that matched pictures she'd found on her COM pad weeks ago. It didn't take her long and, after Keyes parked the car, she got out, making her way to the front gates. She had scheduled an appointment with the lady in charge of the orphanage, the Reverend Mother, three days ago before leaving their last inspection point so she and Keyes should be expected. Gripping the bag she'd brought with her, which contained a COM pad plus a few other odds and ends, she wondered how this subject would fare with her tests. With those subjects that she'd chosen to visit in person she'd conducted tests to determine just how exceptional they truly were. No two sets of tests were the same but all would be informative one way or another.

"Now remember: if anyone asks we're a young couple looking to adopt one of the orphans," she said as they arrived at the front gates of the property. "We'll look around for a bit before 'choosing' subject zero seven zero as a potential adoptee. I'll administer the necessary tests and then we'll leave to discuss matters before making a decision. If all goes well we'll return the following day to proceed with the adoption process."

"We'll be adopting her?" Keyes asked, sounding quite surprised by this development.

"Yes. Officially on paper zero seven zero will look to have been adopted by 'Mary and Michal Locke' but that's only in order to ensure that there is no official connection between us and the adoption," she replied as she spotted the Reverend Mother. "Unlike with the other subjects, acquiring this one will be much simpler since zero seven zero has no family that would notice the absence and the sisters of the orphanage would think nothing of losing contact with one of their charges. So instead of letting this opportunity pass us by I've decided to seize it by taking zero seven zero with us. She's the last of the exceptional subjects I wanted to visit so we'll take her with us back to the ship."

She would not tell him more because he was not cleared to know more.

His only purpose was to provide her with protection should she encounter any trouble in the form of criminals or Insurrectionists. Personally she'd opposed the attaching of an escort to her trip but those who ranked above her in ONI had insisted, so she had been left with no choice but to accept. Nevertheless, if she must have a bodyguard, she'd make full use of him in order to facilitate the acquisition of the subjects required for her Program.

Clearing her mind she put on a fake smile and prepared the rough script she'd come up with on the trip down, hoping that Lieutenant Keyes was intelligent enough to fit his words to match her own.

"Mister and Missus Locke?" Reverend Mother asked once she stood before them at the gate's threshold.

"Yes, that's us!" she replied with false cheer and excitement.

"Welcome to Saint Joseph's Orphanage," Reverend Mother said with a polite smile before half turning away and gesturing towards the main building. "I must say it does my heart good that you've chosen to give one of my charges a loving home. While I treasure each and every one of them, the means at my disposal limits the opportunities the can offer them."

"I'm sure you do your best, Reverend Mother." Keyes said with a half-smile on his face.

"It's kind of you to say so," Reverend Mother said before she began to walk towards the building. "Now if you'll follow me the children are tending to the garden in back. We try to be as self-sufficient as possible here in order to minimize costs."

She was aware of all this, of course, having downloaded and reviewed all information on the orphanage as soon as she'd read the results of subject zero seven zero's gene tests. The Orphanage was founded about a decade after the first colonists arrived and had become a sanctuary for any children within two days travel who'd lost their parents to one thing or another. It never failed to pass its government inspections and had a good reputation for providing its charges with a warm, nurturing environment. The records on their financials, however, did make it clear that the bulk of their funds came from charitable donations, government stipends and the odd bake sale. Therefore it was only logical for them to take steps to keep food costs to a minimum and a garden went go a long way towards meeting that objective.

It didn't take them long to reach the garden and see that it was completely occupied by children of various ages and orphanage employees. Casually letting her eyes pass over those working on the garden, she looked for zero seven zero using the photo attached to the file as a means of positive identification. While she would have preferred to use the portable gene scanner that she'd used to positively ID subject one one seven, there were too many eyes present to do that without attracting attention.

A minute and a half later she located zero seven zero working alongside a boy with dark brown hair, planting new seeds in the soil of the garden. With great focus she compared the facial characteristics from subject in the photo with the one she saw working in the garden a dozen or so meters away. While not as exact as a scanner like she would prefer, she was still confident that she had successfully identified zero seven zero.

"Has one caught your eye, Missus Locke?" Reverend Mother asked, noticing the intensity of her scrutiny.

"Actually, yes. Can you tell me about that little blonde girl next to the brown haired boy of the same age?" she asked, pointing at zero seven zero.

"That would be Joyce Archer," Reverend Mother replied with a warm smile. "She came to live here about two and a half years ago. She was so troubled in the beginning but with the help of the boy next to her she eventually came to open up. Alex's sense of humor probably had something to do with that."

This proved to be final confirmation so she decided to follow the script she'd outlined by engaging the Reverend Mother in a discussion about the subject's interests like a prospective mother would. It mattered little to her in truth but it was important that she play the role she'd written for herself so that she left nothing for any inquiring minds to find and learn from. Keyes proved to be a quick learner and was adding to her dialogue nicely, without any hesitation or lack of confidence. By the time the chit-chat period had finished she was confident that all suspicion that might have existed had been dispelled.

Now it was time to move on to something more productive.

"Would it be possible for me to speak with her?" she asked with fake tentativeness that she hadn't felt since she was a teenager. "In private if possible?"

"Of course," Reverend Mother replied before turning towards zero seven zero. "Joyce! Could you come here?"

"COMING!" zero seven zero yelled before running their way.

She saw Keyes smile at this and figured he was the sort who probably had an interest in finding a woman, getting married and having a daughter of his own eventually. Somewhat more honorable than some of the other men she'd met in her life but not one she personally shared. To her the acquisition of knowledge and understanding the universe was more appealing to her because, as far as she was concerned, knowledge WAS power. If you had the former the latter would naturally come later, allowing you to further your plans then one day accomplish them. A family or even a child would only distract her from this, so it was likely that this would be as close as she would ever get to having a daughter of her own.

"Joyce, these people would like to speak with you inside," Reverend Mother said with a kind smile. "Please come with us."

"Are they here to adopt me?" Joyce asked, looking back and forth between her and Keyes.

This caused an eyebrow to rise because, while it was a logical enough conclusion, it was not something she'd have expected a child of six years to prove capable of connecting the dots.

"What makes you think that they're here to adopt you, Joyce?" Reverend Mother asked politely but with a trace of interest.

"The lady was looking at me real hard earlier and the man seems real happy looking at everyone here." Joyce replied after taking a moment to apparently phrase her response properly.

 _Excellent situational awareness for one so young,_ she thought with a mental nod of approval. _Properly honed it should make her an excellent soldier._

"Well, aren't you a smart little girl," Keyes commented with a smile.

"Why don't we go inside and find out just how smart?" she asked with a half prepared smile as genuine interest in the girl's potential made her look forward to the tests to come.

With a nod of compliance the group of four went into the main orphanage building to determine just how exceptional zero seven zero really was.

 _ **Jacob Keyes' POV**_

 _What have I gotten myself into?_

It wasn't the first time he'd asked himself this question but every time he felt the urge to ask Doctor Halsey for more details, he was reminded of the ghost stories he'd heard about O.N.I. The Office of Naval Intelligence was a branch of the UNSC Navy charged with proving intelligence for naval forces and for the development of military equipment. Some say they 'acquired' some of their tech they 'developed' and that when they weren't busy that they were also in charge of dispensing propaganda to the masses in order to keep the public mindset on track. If you believed even darker rumors they were also responsible for conspiracies and subterfuge that'd make some of the more convoluted movie scripts seem simple by comparison. Entire dramas designed to manipulate either a single individual or every human in known space. While he wasn't quite so naïve that he took anything they said or did at face value, the more outlandish theories out there were nothing more than the products of some seriously disturbed minds.

Nevertheless he couldn't help but feel the fear lurking in the back of his mind every time he contemplated what might happen to him if he asked one too many questions.

So he kept his mouth shut and would continue to do so until something stronger than a lurking fear popped up in his mind.

For the last hour Halsey had been quizzing the girl, Joyce, about a variety of subjects ranging from things that a six year old would know to things that only someone just finishing elementary school would know. Personally he thought that the latter was a little unfair since most kids spent their time outside having fun with their friends rather than in a library reading books. Was this some kind of hint to Halsey's own childhood? Had she been one of those lonely kids who spent all their time reading stacks of books rather than making friends? It was a surprising potential revelation but what turned out to be just as surprising was that Joyce was able to answer most of the questions without too much difficulty.

And Halsey looked to be just as impressed as he was.

"How do you know so much, little one?" Halsey asked as she turned off her COM pad.

"I like reading and Mother Reverend takes us to the library once a week so we can get books to read." Joyce replied honestly while gazing at the good doctor.

"What sort of books do you like?" Halsey asked with polite curiosity.

"Mythology, mystery books and sometimes I let the librarian choose a book for me." Joyce replied after a moment's thought. "He calls them classics. Stuff by Socrates and Wordsworth. Some of them are written funny and don't make sense but it makes the old man happy so I do my best to read'em."

 _Pretty heavy reading for a kid._ He remembered the few times in college when he'd tried reading the same sort of books. _Usually they don't ask you to think that deep until you're in your teens._

"Then can you tell me something that Tom Stoppard wrote in his book 'The Invention of Love'?" Halsey asked, sounding like how the girl answered would mean a pass or a fail on at least one question.

"'Knowledge is good. It does not have to look good or sound good or even be good. It is good just by being knowledge.'" Joyce said, reciting words she knew from memory. "'And the only thing that makes it knowledge is that it is true. You can't have too much of it and there is no little too little to be worth having.'"

He couldn't help but chuckle a bit at the quote the little girl chose to recite because, to a scientist like Halsey, he figured knowledge, facts, was the one thing she valued more than just about anything else. If it wasn't for the fact that they were dealing with a six year old child he'd have suspected that Joyce had specifically chosen a quote that would put her in Doctor Halsey's good books. But since that was ridiculous he put it down as just luck and watched to see how things would develop.

"That's very good, Joyce. I'm surprised you were able to remember such a long quote," Halsey said with a grin that wasn't fake or rehearsed in the least. "It must've been hard to remember."

"Not really. I can remember just about everything I've read," Joyce said offhand, as though she didn't think it was all that special. "Reverend Mother says she thinks I've got photographic memory. I asked her what that means and she says people with a photographic memory can't forget anything."

"It's true that that's the claim but there hasn't been any real scientific evidence to prove that it's possible to have a photographic memory." Halsey said conversationally even as she removed two holo-discs from her bag and placed them on the table in front of Joyce. "How would you like to find out for sure?"

He was a bit surprised by this turn of events but he could tell that Joyce was interested enough and indeed the girl nodded in the affirmative to the question.

"Good. Now listen carefully: this is a super secret message I recorded once when I was out in space. Now it might look like nonsense but it's actually a message in code," Halsey said before activating the holo-disc on the left, causing it to display an upwardly scrolling document. "Now what I'm going to show you next are the clues that you'll need to figure out what the super secret message really means. You'll only see it for three seconds and then I'm going to turn it right off. If photographic memory exists and you really have it, then three seconds is all you'll need to remember the clues and decipher the secret message. Understand?"

"Uh-huh." Joyce replied, looking intently at the deactivated holo-disc.

"Okay then. Get ready... aannddd… GO!" Halsey said, activating the holo-disc on the right.

In the blink of an eye the disc displayed two columns of data perfectly parallel so that even a novice could tell that the information on the left were connected to the one on the right. It only took him a moment to recognize it as a cipher key for decryption purposes but what had him suddenly taking a closer look was the format it was laid out in.

He recognized it!

It was the format commonly used in classified O.N.I. documents, making him suspect that both the information on the left and the information on the right were in fact taken from a classified database. This caused apprehension to rise within him because military law and regulations made it perfectly clear that allowing an unauthorized civilian to view such documents was forbidden. Immediately he began to move for the table where the two ladies sat intent on confiscating both discs and ending the test immediately.

However before he could take more than two steps Halsey turned her head and glared at him, as if to firmly and unmistakably say 'do NOT interfere'. Instantly he froze and in a way that he normally did when given a chilly order from a superior officer of some clout. The fact that Doctor Halsey had managed to induce a similar reaction struck him by surprise but when he noticed that the little girl, Joyce, was looking at him oddly, he decided to wait until after she'd left before voicing his 'concerns'.

Right then the three seconds the doctor had specified came to an end and, just like she promised, she shut off the disc with the cipher key. Once this was done Halsey put the cipher disk back into her bag before withdrawing a COM pad and placing it before Joyce.

"Now I want you to go through the super secret message and use what I let you see to turn it into something that makes sense," Halsey said as she got up from her chair and picked up her bag. "I'll give you the room to yourself so you can concentrate. Knock on the door three times when you're done."

With that she gave him a subtle gesture to follow her before walking to the sole door in the room. He followed and hoped that the hallways in their immediate vicinity were vacant of people because he had a few words he needed to say. Once outside of the room he looked up and down the hallway just as he'd been trained to and, once he was satisfied that there was no one within earshot, he turned to Doctor Halsey.

"Before you dive into the speech about UNSC rules and laws regarding classified information, you can rest assured that there's nothing of any relevance in the document zero seven zero is working on," Halsey said, stopping him just as he opened his mouth to speak. "It's an old Insurrectionist communiqué from ten years ago that was deciphered by O.N.I. six months later. They've long since switched to another code and the information contained in the communiqué is about a sensitive as a rock at the moment. Besides I only gave her HALF of the cipher key needed to decipher the communiqué."

 _Well that's something to be thankful for,_ he thought as he considered the new information. _If it's that old and it's only possible to decrypt it halfway then there's no chance of unauthorized persons knowing about it._

Still there was something he had to know.

"If all you wanted to find out was whether or not she actually has a photographic memory then why use an encrypted Insurrectionist communiqué?" he asked, not having been able to come up with an answer on his own. "Why not just make it all up from scratch?"

"Do I look like someone who has a lot of time on my hands?" she asked rhetorically, looking him in the eye. "Contrary to what you might think I'm on a very tight schedule and can hardly be bothered to devise an original encrypted message and the corresponding cipher key. This will suffice."

He waited for her to explain why it'd be necessary for the girl to prove she had an aptitude for decryption but, when nothing happened, he just sighed and found a place to get comfortable. He wasn't sure how long it'd take for the six year old girl to finish her work but he imagined it'd take anywhere between two to three hours, assuming it was done right.

He was mildly curious to find out how well she'd do.

 _ **Doctor Catherine Elizabeth Halsey's POV**_

Hearing the sound of the doorknob to the subject's room being turned, she set down her personal COM pad where she'd been reviewing phase one of the Program.

Once she'd determined just how suitable zero seven zero was as a subject they would sign the necessary custody papers and escort it back to the ship. It would be somewhat of an anomaly to have the subject arrive ahead of the others but it wouldn't upset the overall timetable all that much. Then… when they got back to Reach, she would have Deja give the word to begin collecting the remaining subjects and sending them to the military complex that O.N.I. had requisitioned for the purpose of the Program. There was a part of her that almost wished that some sort of complication would arise that would delay what the current state of the universe insisted they do. The more objective part of her knew that there was no time for delays because, with every day that passed, more innocent lives were lost in the struggle between the outer and inner colonies of Earth.

Some might call Doctor Elias Carver a pessimist but, given that an independent study conducted by O.N.I. only confirmed the doctor's report on the future of the conflict, it could not be so easily refuted.

Her Program would save lives, potentially billions of them, and so a small sacrifice now would be a small price to pay in the grand scheme of things.

Seeing the door open to reveal zero seven zero, she saw that the girl had a somewhat uncertain look on her face and to her that likely meant that it had not been able to completely decrypt the message, though whether this was due to the insufficient amount of data on the cipher document she'd shown the subject or proof that the girl did not have a photographic memory she did not know. Advancing towards zero seven zero along with Keyes, she put her 'potential adoptive mother' face and waited for debrief she was expecting.

"I'm done," Zero seven zero said looking back and forth between the two of them, "but I think something's missing."

"What do you mean?" Keyes asked sounding curious.

"The peek the lady showed me of the clues… I don't think it was all of them," Zero seven zero said, sounding like she was worried she might be in trouble. "It only helped me get halfway."

 _Impressive. She managed to figure out the truth just from what she saw._ She felt somewhat impressed with the subject's powers of perception. _It seems she has a talent for decryption after all._

Looking at Lieutenant Keyes, she could tell that he was impressed as well but that was no surprise considering that most code breakers took years to become competent enough to be worth a job offer from O.N.I. For someone only six years old with no credentials of any sort involving message decryption to have managed to come this far… it implied much.

"Well, let's go see how well you did," she said before taking the subject's hand and re-entered the room where the results awaited her.

Walking through the door and then over to the table where the COM pad she'd given the subject lay, Catherine idly wondered about just what she'd find. Picking up the pad she began to look over zero seven zero's work and immediately found something she had not anticipated.

The Insurrectionist communiqué had been COMPLETELY decrypted and was perfectly legible!

This shouldn't have been possible at all, never mind in the little over two hours that the subject had taken to complete the assigned task. She'd seen the recorded amount of time it'd taken the O.N.I. decryption specialists to decipher the communiqué: three months. That was of course the logged amount of time each specialist used to complete their task while on duty rather than the total amount of time regardless of how many days, weeks or months actually passed overall. For the girl to have managed to decrypt the message using only a partial cipher key with only three seconds to look at it… she needed to know more!

"How did you do this?" she asked with genuine curiosity in her tone.

"Well, when I finished using the clues you gave me I could tell it wasn't done. I couldn't read it at all," Zero seven zero replied, focusing more on her memories. "I tried to figure out why you hadn't given me all the clues but then I figured it out: the second set of clues were hidden in the first ones! So I tried looking for them and it was really hard but it all worked out in the end."

 _She used the partial cipher I provided to deduce the rest of it?!_ She tried to conceive of the sort of mind required to do such a thing. _Astonishing._

That pretty much solidified in her mind that zero seven zero would become an exceptional subject for the program and if she survived phase two… it would add a bit of brains to the brawn. Indeed, intelligence was needed in her creations since a stupid asset could only have limited uses it if it didn't have the required intelligence to make full use of its abilities. She knew that with Senior Chief Petty Officer Franklin Mendez's efforts it'd be possible to forge a soldier worthy of the ODST from each subject provided but that was not enough for the current crisis. Their mandate was to create a force above and beyond the existing forces combatting the Insurrectionists in order to bring the conflict to an end, quickly and decisively. With the intelligence zero seven zero displayed just now, she had high hopes for the future.

"Did I… did I do it right?" zero seven zero asked tentatively, likely unnerved by the silence.

"Yes you did," she replied with a genuine smile even as she took the COM pad and deactivated it. "And you've been a big help in aiding us in making our choice."

Indeed all she need do now was discuss how they would proceed further with Keyes and they could finally begin bringing this trip to its conclusion.

She had a lot of work to do and wanted to start as soon as possible.

 _ **Alex's POV**_

He didn't like this.

He didn't like this one bit.

He didn't like it and he didn't trust THEM.

It had been two days ago that a man and a woman had come to the orphanage to talk with Reverend Mommy and Joyce but that hadn't done much to improve his mood over the news. From the moment the two adults left, all anyone had been talking about was how Joyce was going to be adopted and go away. He didn't want that. It wasn't that he didn't care for the sisters, Reverend Mommy or any of the other kids but… but… he just felt different when he was having fun with Joy. That's what he liked to call her instead of by her full name. After all she always had a way of making him forget about bad things and making him smile, plus she had a lot of good ideas for pranks. It'd taken him a while to convince her that pranking was fun enough that it was worth the trouble you could get into later if you wound up getting caught but he'd managed. As of today they'd managed to prank everyone in the orphanage at least once but, if she went away for good, then they wouldn't get a chance to do a repeat.

He knew that the whole point of an orphanage was to give kids without a family a place to live until either they were old enough to take care of themselves or were adopted by someone. There'd been others who'd lived at the orphanage only to get adopted one day and move out, but they still sent the occasional email or letter. That made their absence bearable but he had a feeling, deep down, that it wouldn't be enough with Joy going away.

She'd just become too important to him to make do with stuff like that.

Then there was the fact that Missy had been on edge whenever the two strangers were around. He didn't know what she was or where she'd come from, but he'd begun to notice her a long time ago and she'd been a big help when it came to sneaking stuff from the kitchen or pulling pranks. It was like she could hear or smell things better than he could. He hadn't told anyone about his secret friend, they would've thought he was nuts, but he still listened to her when she had something to tell him. What she conveyed to him when the adults who were adopting Joy were around was that they were keeping their true selves hidden. The woman more so than the man and that made him suspicious about what they really wanted Joy for. If they really wanted to be her new Mom and Dad then they could just be honest about it.

No… the only people who hid things were people who knew you wouldn't be happy if you knew the truth.

What truth were they trying to hide from Reverend Mommy and Joy?

He'd tried to talk to the other sisters about it but they'd just treated him like some kid who didn't want to say goodbye to his best friend. No matter how hard he tried to get across to the adults that they should be more suspicious of the two strangers, they wouldn't listen. Logically he knew the next step would've been to talk to Joy about it but she seemed happy about the idea of having a new momma and poppa. She, of course, promised that she'd call then or write them whenever she could while asking them to do the same but she didn't seem to realize how big a change to her life living somewhere else with someone else would be for her.

Looking from his position across the street from the front gate of the orphanage, he thought over what he planned on doing to see if he'd made a mistake anywhere.

If Reverend Mommy and the sisters wouldn't believe his words, he'd just have to get proof and that meant following the two strangers adopting Joy after they took her. He'd run lots of errands so he knew the city pretty good, so even if his plan A didn't work, he'd use all the shortcuts he knew to keep up with them. Cars had to stay on the roads to get where they wanted to go but he could cut through alleys and across people's yards.

He was fast.

He'd be able to keep up with them.

He was also very good at hide and go seek, so he was certain he'd be able to keep them from figuring out that he was there until he found out what they really wanted Joy for. He'd get their books, their COM pads and anything else that looked like it'd have something he could use to get Joy's adoption overturned.

Maybe he'd even leave some of his nastier pranks behind so they'd be so embarrassed that they'd never set foot on Arcadia for the rest of their lives.

Hearing the sound of a car getting closer he immediately got as low as he could behind the dumpster so as not be seen. Unlike a lot of the other kids he knew better than to try and peek around the edges. Instead he closed his eyes and focused everything on what he could hear since that way he'd be able to hear doors opening and closing, as well as the sound of footsteps. That'd be good enough to let him know when to get out from behind of the dumpster.

CLUNK! CLUNK!

Tap, tap, tap.

He waited until he could no longer hear the footsteps at all, then added one minute to that just to be on the safe side. Once that was done he ran across the street and quickly got under the car before looking for places to hook his arms and legs on so he could lift himself up off the street. He'd seen this done in the vids tons of times and it'd be the perfect way to follow them without being seen. He couldn't get in the trunk since that's where they'd be putting Joy's things and he couldn't get into the car itself since they'd see him through the windows. It took a few tries but finally he managed to figure out where he should place his limbs but, once he'd found them, he quickly got into position, figuring it'd only be minutes before the two strangers came out with Joy.

He waited and waited and ten minutes later he heard the doors to the orphanage open up with what sounded like four sets of feet coming towards the car.

"Well I wish you all the best, Joyce," Reverend Mommy said from a spot next to the car. "I'm just sorry that Alex isn't here to see you off."

"It's okay Reverend Mother," Joy said politely but with a hint of repressed sadness. "If he was here it'd probably just be harder to go. I'll send you a letter as soon as we get home. Bye-bye."

He heard the sound of cloth rubbing against each other and figured Joy was probably hugging Reverend Mommy goodbye. He just knew that she'd feel so silly once he exposed the two strangers as frauds and got the adoption cancelled but for now it was the thought that counted.

"Goodbye, dear child," Reverend Mommy said before he heard what indicated that the hug had ended. "Feel free to come back and visit when you get older. Saint Joseph's will always welcome one of its own."

"I will," Joy said, sounding a little better.

Soon after that he heard the sounds of the rear passenger side door opening before the car moved slightly and then the sound of the trunk opening, something being put inside. It didn't take long after that before the car's engine was started and the vehicle began to move quite quickly as it pulled into traffic. It was a very scary but also very thrilling hanging from the bottom of the car. After something scraped his back a little he did everything he could to press himself against the bottom of the car so his back was as far from the street as possible. This made it a little harder on his arms and legs but it looked like playing sports and running about the orphanage was helping out a lot.

Still, he hoped that they got to wherever they were driving too soon or else he was going to be too weak to follow them.

Numerous starts and stops went by and he did his best not to lose his grip at any point along the way, always keeping at least three limbs secure at all times. He alternated, letting each limb relax as a way of stretching out how long his body would last before it could no longer hang from the bottom of the car. There were a few times when it felt like his stomach was trying to climb up his throat when he nearly got shaken loose by a pothole but he managed just the same.

He didn't know how much time had passed since they'd left the orphanage but, after what seemed like forever, the car stopped, the engine was turned off and the doors opened.

 _Thank god!_ he thought to himself as he listened to the three occupants get out, get their things from the trunk and begin to walk away.

Caution dictated his actions along with Missy, who felt like she had experience at this sort of thing. When she gave the word he let go of the bottom of the car and rolled out from under it, wincing a bit as the scrape he'd gotten early on. Shoving it aside he looked about and managed to spot Joy going around the corner of a big building… a hanger, he thought it was called… so he set off in pursuit as swiftly yet also as silently as he could manage. Whenever he thought he'd lost the three of them Missy compelled him to sniff the air so she could figure out where they'd gone. He'd done this a few times in the past but he'd never been able to smell anything good enough to follow and initially this just caused Missy to 'sigh'.

After a while, though, she just seemed to accept it.

It wasn't until he got within sight of a hanger with a black and white pyramid painted on the front that things got scary. From the moment they'd left the orphanage Missy had been wary and alert for any sign danger but now it felt like she was completely on edge and, if things got much worse, she just might tell him to run away.

He didn't like this.

Any place that made Missy feel like this was no place for Joy to be and only served to further confirm his opinion that they were not being honest with who they were and what they wanted. Letting the impulses he was getting from Missy be his guide, he advanced on the troubling hanger doing his best to respond instantly to any warning he was given. It was tiring moving so quickly, changing directions like he was playing dodge ball, but eventually with what little patience he could find inside of himself he eventually found himself with his back to the strange hanger.

Looking about he tried to find a way he could get inside but all he could find was a vent cover just above a stack of crates on one side. Moving he began to climb the stack, often barely able to reach the edge of the box he wanted to climb onto, and after some hard work managed to reach the top. Looking at the vent cover he could see the screws and smiled as he reached into his pocket to bring out one of the tools he'd brought with him.

A Swiss army knife that'd belonged to Reverend Mommy that he'd… borrowed… from her room.

Carefully pulling out the screwdriver he began to work on the screws, though some of them proved to be a little harder to get out than others. Once the cover was off he looked inside and, once he was sure no one was close, he went through it, putting the cover back into place as best he could before proceeding further into the hanger. He was lucky that there'd been boxes on the inside of the hanger near his vent since he could use it to hide from the strangers as well as anyone else that might be here.

When he reached the edge of the boxes he peeked around them to find a fancy looking shuttle but his worry spiked as he saw the side door slide shut. They were already inside and if he didn't figure something out quickly he'd lose Joy for good! Glancing around like a crazy person, he did whatever he could to find some way to get on board that wouldn't get him discovered. It wasn't until he detected movement from the rear of the shuttle that he saw some kind of cargo lift rising up. Without even taking the time to think things through he sprinted for it, pushing himself harder than he ever had with the simple races back at the orphanage. As it was he just barely managed to pull himself onto the cargo lift before the gap between it and the shuttle became too narrow for him to fit through in time.

Hearing the clank of the lift locking into place, he had to wonder if he'd gotten a little over his head but smushed that thought when he considered never seeing Joy again. Moving carefully through the small gaps in the cargo boxes, he began to make his way towards where he thought Joy and the two strangers were. If this near miss told him anything, it was that he couldn't afford to allow for such a large gap between them to happen again. Getting closer might increase the risk of getting caught but it was a risk he was willing to take for Joy's sake.

It took about ten minutes for him to finally come upon what looked to be a hatch or a door to the rest of the ship but he took the light coming through the gaps between it and the frame as a good thing. Seeing a lock on the door he took out his Swiss army knife again before beginning to dismantle it so he could quietly make it through.

 _I just hope it's not a long trip or else I'm gonna get hungry,_ he thought as he finished dismantling the lock.

Pushing the hatch open, he wondered if he could find anything to eat inside.

"Well, isn't this a surprise," the lady stranger said, causing him to look up.

Standing a little way ahead of him were the two strangers he didn't like, both of whom looked surprised to see him, even if the woman was doing a better job of hiding it. He couldn't excuse his presence or even think up a convincing lie so he went with his strong suit.

"Got anything to eat?" he asked with the grin that often worked in getting him out of trouble with Reverend Mommy.

Hopefully it'd work on these people too.

 _ **Military Complex on Reach, Doctor Halsey's Office**_

 _ **Doctor Elisabeth Catherine Halsey's POV**_

"Could we have a diamond in the rough here?" she asked as she looked at the results of the DNA analysis on one Alexander L. Achilles.

It had been odd when the Han's A.I. Toran that someone was tampering with the lock on the cargo compartment hatch but she jumped to the same conclusion Keyes had: stowaway. Keyes, being a military man, probably thought it was an Insurrectionist agent or perhaps a criminal looking to rob them blind. It'd certainly explain why he took his sidearm out of its holster and chambered a round but quite frankly in the absence of supporting evidence she'd seen it as being a bit premature. As a pair they'd gone down to the relevant room and arrived less than a minute before a six year old boy crawled through the hatch. At first she hadn't known who she was looking at but, after the boy raised his eyes to look at her and Keyes, she'd recognized him as a friend of zero seven zero.

After they'd gotten over their initial surprise they'd asked the boy how he had gotten aboard when, to their recollection, he should've been back at the orphanage. The boy had looked ready to be petulant but then had shown uncommon wisdom for someone his age by deciding not to and so he'd explained his journey. While she'd been quick to discern that Alexander hadn't been entirely truthful with his retelling of the facts, what he'd told her was interesting enough. While not entirely unjustified, the boy's suspicion of her and Keyes had led him to take many risks in order to successfully tail them and gain entry to the Han. It was impressive, considering the fact that even trained soldiers would've had difficulty doing the same. As a result she'd decided to take the boy with her instead of returning him to the orphanage on the hunch that there was more to him than was readily perceivable. Keyes, of course, had a problem with that but all she had to do was prey on the man's better nature involving zero seven zero and how she'd like a friend to be along for the ride.

Fortunately her subterfuge had lasted long enough for the two of them to part ways, her with the children and he by himself, allowing her to continue on to Reach.

As soon as they'd arrived she'd had one of her subordinates take the duo off her hands but not before she'd extracted a blood sample from the boy. From there she'd gone to the nearest lab to put the sample through the same series of tests as those that revealed the locations of the various subjects that were to be used for the Program. Some she had gotten the results for quite quickly and, with each one she reviewed early on, she became increasingly convinced that she had done the right thing in bringing the boy to Reach. However some tests took time to complete and could not be rushed if one wanted complete accuracy in the results.

Now, though… now she had all the results she could ever need.

Her mind was immediately suspicious of the results because, much as she had refuted the possibility back on Arcadia, the test results proved otherwise. Alexander was a complete match. No, not a complete match, but rather a superior specimen for her Program that she had not thought possible. The data before her indicated that not only did Alexander possess the necessary genetics to survive phase two but there were also 'black box genes' that, for the moment, she could not divine the purpose of. Granted, there were more specialized tests she could run to learn more but, after a moment's consideration, she chose not to have them carried out.

Such tests were not needed for her Program and ordering for them to be done would only attract unwanted attention.

She knew that there were elements in O.N.I. who were keeping tabs on her and her Program with varying amounts of resources. Some no doubt waited to sabotage her work so that it could be shut down and resources diverted to their own projects. Others likely wanted to seize control of the Program, twist it to fit their own opinion of what it should be like, and either force her into a subordinate position or have her meet with an 'accident'. If she ordered the specialized tests to be carried out, these elements would wonder why and, if they managed to perceive even a sliver of what she saw, they would take action. Either they would attempt to insert an agent into her midst for the purpose of covertly siphoning data or they would try to persuade those in power to turn Alexander over to them. They would make noise enough if she tried to add one more than had officially been authorized to the list of subjects for her program but, if they learned the addition was 'special'… they'd press hard to be given custody of the boy. While her Program and its importance might give her a certain degree of clout, it wouldn't be enough when thrown against some of the stronger factions within O.N.I.

O.N.I. was a den of monsters and you only survived there if you played by the same rules as them.

If you wanted to prosper and thrive there you needed to more cunning and ruthless than the competition. Information was the weapon of choice amongst the members of O.N.I. and quality definitely mattered more than quantity, even if it was harder to come by. You also couldn't use the information you acquired carelessly. You had to pretend that you were playing some invisible chess game, with each piece of information being a piece of the board. Move your pieces wisely and you were one step closer to achieving your ultimate goal. Move them unwisely and, if you were lucky, all that happened was that you got humiliated before being reassigned to a job more 'in keeping with your LIMITED abilities'.

Translation, you were put someplace where you couldn't embarrass O.N.I. any further or waste the time of those who ranked above you any more than you already had.

If you were very unlucky you were made into the scapegoat for one scandal or another, resulting in either a permanent prison sentence or an execution.

During her time with O.N.I., though, she'd learned quickly how things worked and it was this knowledge that told her to not draw attention to Alexander. Instead she would formulate an excuse that would pass scrutiny so that the boy could be added to the list of subjects for the Program and then wait to see how things would develop. Would the mysteries that she had labeled 'black box genes' become active, allowing her to find out what their purpose was? Perhaps. Would these genes lead to unforeseen and generally undesirable complications? Based on her own analysis of phase two there were already considerable biological risks facing the subjects, so one more was of little relevance. Nevertheless she had sent what information she could to Admiral Ysionris Jeromi for a second opinion on the augmentations with the cover story that had been prepared by O.N.I. should she need outside consultation. She had not received a reply yet but she had a flicker of hope that the man might prove capable of devising some treatments or amendments to her procedures that would mitigate the risks involved.

"Déjà?" she asked to the A.I. attached to her program.

Almost at once the holographic avatar appeared above the miniature emitter built into her desk, clad in clothes consistent with an ancient goddess wearing Greek robes.

"Yes, Doctor Halsey?" Déjà asked in a neutral tone of voice.

"I want all record of these blood tests deleted and any remnants scrubbed from the system," she replied in a no nonsense tone of voice. "By this time tomorrow they never existed."

"Understood," Déjà said even as she began to fulfill those orders.

With that done she changed what was on the display screen to show all original seventy-five subjects, with a picture of Alexander off to the side. One by one she looked at them, recalling from memory where they lived, whether they had family or not, and whatever distinguishing traits they had. It would be the final time she'd be thinking of such things in relation to them. Once they were at the complex where their training would begin, she would think of them as nothing more than test subjects or else she wouldn't be able to do what was needed. She knew full well what was ahead for the test subjects and if she let herself, consciously and subconsciously, label them as human children, then she would be unable to bring herself to let them come to harm. That would inevitably cause O.N.I. to remove her from the Program entirely, to be replaced with someone more willing to see it through to completion regardless of the potential costs to the subjects.

Only she was capable of bringing the Program to its optimum conclusion.

This wasn't arrogance or pride, but rather a simple truth.

She knew that in the UNSC there were few scientific minds she would call adequate and less than four that she considered to be near her equal. None of them did she consider her superior in the scientific fields in which she had dedicated her life to mastering. Indeed O.N.I. didn't approach average people to work on their projects. They scooped up the cream of the scientific crop whose psychological analysis indicated they'd be morally flexible enough to do the sort of work that was valued by the Office of Naval Intelligence. If there was someone smarter or more qualified to lead the Program to completion they would've put them in command from the beginning. Since she was here rather than someplace else, they obviously considered her the best person for the job.

However, if she proved too… conflicted… about what she was being asked to do, they wouldn't hesitate to replace her with their number two choice.

She couldn't let that happen.

Not just because it increased the odds of her Program disgracefully failing and, even if it reached completion, she believed that less than half of her original estimated successes would survive. There was no dodging the cost of this Program one way or another but she would be damned before she permitted sloppy work or inefficiency.

"We have our final seventy-six," she said to the A.I. after she finished looking over each of them. "Do it, Déjà. Give the word. The children. The TEST SUBJECTS. Round them up."

"Yes, Doctor," Déjà said with a posture of acknowledgment. "The word is given."

With that the gauntlet was cast and the decision made.

God help them all.


	3. A New Life Not Sought

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the copyrighted material contained herein. They are the rightful property of their respective creators and/or associated companies. I make no profit from this whatsoever and I have no intention of changing this at any point in the future. I write because it's fun and because there are those who enjoy reading my work.

 _ **An Assembly Hall on the Planet Reach**_

 _ **Joy's POV**_

She didn't know what was going on but she was pretty sure this wasn't how things were supposed to go after you got adopted into a family.

She now began to wonder if she should've paid more attention to Alex when he tried to warn her that Mister and Missus Locke weren't all they were pretending to be. She hadn't seen Mister Locke since they left Arcadia but Missus Locke just said that he had to go to work and that she'd see him the next time he got some free time. She'd been a bit disappointed since Missus Locke hadn't been all that interested in talking to her but having Alex sitting next to her had helped. Then she got to experience something that everyone who went on long interstellar journeys: cryogenic suspension. She didn't understand any more than what they showed in vids but basically, even with the invention of slip space travel, humans wouldn't get very far travelling normally. Cryogenic suspension kept people from aging by slowing down their metabolism so that, even if it took a ship ten years to get to its destination, they wouldn't have aged a day once they were frozen.

After having been through it herself, she could only say that she hated it and didn't want to do it again anytime soon.

Soon after they arrived on a planet called Reach they went down to the planet and went to someplace with a lot of soldiers surrounded by a tall metal fence. This had made her even more uneasy than before but Alex had done his best to comfort her and it was because of him that she hadn't been more unsettled when they'd been herded out of the room and into a much bigger one. A lot of other kids were there about the same age as her and Alex but she didn't recognize them, so she didn't think they were from Avalon or the surrounding area. She wondered what they were there for and soon got a hint when Missus Locke walked into the room dressed in a gray uniform of some kind, followed by a man in similar clothing. Once the two of them reached a platform a ghost woman appeared who looked to be the same age as Missus Locke and she recognized it as an A.I. She'd seen them on TV but never in person.

"As per naval code four-five-eight-one-two you are hereby conscripted into the UNSC special project, code-named SPARTAN II," Missus Clarke said, addressing the entire group of kids. "This will be hard to understand but you cannot return to your parents or to your homes. You will be the protectors of Earth and all her colonies. Your fellow trainees are your family now. There will be a great deal of hardship on the road ahead but I know you will all make it. Rest now. Your training will begin tomorrow."

She didn't like what she was hearing.

She knew she was just a kid and the books she read didn't make her smarter than an adult but she knew that it had to be against some kind of law to turn kids into soldiers. She didn't know how the other kids were brought there but, judging from the black eye and bandage on one of them, it wasn't all willingly. She was about to step forward and tell Missus Locke to send them home or she was going to tell a policeman but Alex's hand gripped her upper arm, stopping her in her tracks. Looking at him, he shook his head 'no' and used the gesture that meant 'be quiet'. A part of her wanted to shake off his hand and do what she wanted but Alex was her friend. He'd always done his best to help her and sometimes took the blame for their pranks when they got caught, even if it was entirely her fault. She owed him. She trusted him. Thus she would keep quiet like he wanted but she'd want an explanation later.

"Chief Petty Officer Mendez? Escort the children to the mess hall," Missus Locke ordered, looking at the man who'd followed her in. "Feed them. Get them to bed."

"Yes, ma'am," Chief Petty Officer Mendez said before turning to the group of kids. "TRAINEES! FALL OUT!"

She started at the sudden yelling by the man directed at her and those around her but she was in no hurry to get him mad only at her, so she walked with the rest of them as they left the big room. Outside of the door there were more men but they were wearing helmets and had guns in their hands, making it impossible for them to run away even if they wanted to. She'd seen Alex try to pick fights with the bigger kids but, while he sometimes won those, she doubted he'd be able to beat any of these adults.

Every step of the way to the mess hall, another word for big dining room, they were put into lines before they were each asked to pick up a tray and then proceeding along a counter. Then food was put onto the tray without any of the people doing it asking what they wanted or whether or not they liked what they were being given. Once they had their food they were herded towards the big tables and made to sit down before the men with guns stepped back, with two going to every way in or out.

There was a lot of looking back and forth between all the kids but all she was doing was checking to see how closely the adults were watching them before turning to Alex.

"Why'd you stop me?" she asked in a whisper. "This isn't right!"

"No it isn't but if they've done this I don't think they're gonna listen to a six year old kid," Alex replied, keeping his voice to a whisper as well. "You make trouble there's no telling what they'd do. If we're going to do anything, we gotta be patient and wait for the best chance. It's just like pulling the pranks back home. You learn where everyone's gonna be, where they're gonna go and more importantly when we can make a move without them realizing it."

Glancing about the room, she decided that he was right.

If these people were willing to steal them from their homes, they'd be willing to do a lot more to keep them from leaving. She also didn't know this place that they were in so she didn't know which direction would get them out of it quickest or how hard it'd be able to get out of it in the first place.

Until they knew more, trying to escape would be stupid and she was NOT stupid.

Looking down at her food, she could tell that whoever made it didn't care about the people eating it. After years of eating Sister Miranda's food and cooking with Alex, she knew what food looked like when someone cared about the ones who'd be eating it. Still, she knew that food could be better than it looked so, picking up her fork, she scooped up a piece of the centerpiece of the meal before putting it into her mouth. It didn't immediately taste bad so she didn't spit it back out but neither was it delicious. It was like that day that she'd been so hungry from playing that she'd just grabbed a bun from the kitchen without putting any butter on it at all and stuffed it in her mouth.

It hadn't been tasty or delicious but it'd done the job of filling her tummy.

 _At least I recognize the carton of milk,_ she thought as she opened it up and drank some of it.

There was a piece of fruit as well but she didn't recognize it from the stuff she'd eaten back at the orphanage, though after taking a bite out of it she found it to be a little sweet. She considered this to be a step up from the main part of the meal, so it'd give her something to look forward to the next time she ate.

It wasn't a big meal so it ended relatively soon and the adults that'd herded them in didn't hesitate to move in and get them off their seats and onto their feet. The man, Mendez, started yelling again until everyone was moving quick enough to make him happy. Down hallway after hallway they went until they reached four rooms where they were divided into groups of nineteen, with each group being herded into a room. It was with some relief that Alex was in the same group as her and so, when they settled into their beds, she took comfort in the fact that her best friend wasn't far away.

Deciding that sleep would be better than laying awake thinking about where they were and what was going to happen to them, she did her best to get comfortable. It wasn't hard since the bed wasn't too different from the one she'd had at the orphanage but she still had trouble relaxing with all the unfamiliar sounds and sensations.

She did her best to ignore the stuff that didn't feel right.

"Joy?" Alex asked, whispering so that the adults wouldn't hear him.

"Yeah?" she asked, wondering what he wanted.

"These sheets sure are itchy," he said, sounding like the time he'd worn a sweater that Reverend Mother had given him for Christmas.

She couldn't help but roll her eyes at this out of place comment.

 _ **The Next Morning**_

 _ **Alex's POV**_

"ALRIGHT, UP AND ON YOUR FEET!" some man yelled, shocking him from his slumber.

Opening his eyes with reluctance, it took him five seconds to realize that he wasn't at the orphanage and that the person yelling definitely wasn't Reverend Mommy, angry with him about his and Joy's latest prank. For a moment he considered just rolling over and going back to sleep because he could tell without looking at a clock that it was WAY too early in the morning to be doing anything.

"YAAHHHH!" a boy cried out in pain, accompanied by something that reminded him of the sound effect for electricity that he'd seen on one of his Saturday morning cartoons.

This quickly killed any idea of not getting to his feet quickly and, as he did so, he looked in the direction of boy who'd cried out. An adult was shoving the end of a metal rod into him and bits of electricity were bouncing in between the two things coming together. He'd never seen one before but he definitely didn't want to be on the receiving end of it anytime soon.

"AAAHHHH!" a girl cried out but it was with a voice he instantly recognized.

Turning his head so quickly he thought he might twist it off, he looked to see one of the adults hitting Joy with one of those pain sticks and before he even knew what he was doing, he was running to her rescue. Using a bed as a springboard he leapt onto the man hurting Joy, wrapping his arms and legs tight around the bad guy, hitting him as hard as he could on the side of the head. His efforts worked insomuch as the man stopped using the pain stick on Joy but then he encountered a problem that occasionally had happened back at the orphanage.

He didn't have any plan for what to do next beyond hitting the man, so he quickly paid for it.

Before he realized what was going on the man backed up really quick and he suddenly found himself hitting a wall back first, knocking the wind clear out of him. Without air the strength in his legs and arms failed, causing him to fall off the man to the ground, gasping for air the entire time. By the time he got enough air back to move it was blown right back out when his world lit up with pain, causing his body to spasm out of control. When the pain started to recede he thought that perhaps that would be the extent of his punishment but then a second later the pain returned, just as horrible as before.

"That's enough, Harper!"

"Yes sir, Chief," 'Harper' said, sounding somewhat reluctant.

A few seconds later he was yanked to his feet and shoved into line with the rest of the kids including Joyce while the man from the big room yesterday walked in front of them.

"I am Chief Petty Officer Mendez," the Chief said as he walked, not looking at any of the kids. "The rest of these men are your instructors. You will do exactly as we tell you at all times."

They weren't like any teachers he'd seen in the vids. They'd never hurt any of their students.

"Showers are aft. You will all wash and then return here to dress," Chief said before kicking open the trunk at the foot of the bed one kid had been sleeping in. "Now get moving! NO slacking! On the double!"

With that all the kids were forced towards the showers, with some of them getting forced to move quicker with a poke from the pain stick in one of the adults' hand. Worried about Harper hitting him again he moved as quickly as he could to the showers so the bad man wouldn't get the chance or the excuse to do it.

It felt funny getting undressed in front of so many others. Back at the Orphanage they each took turns in the bathroom whenever they needed to clean themselves and never were they allowed to go in with someone else. Still, he just treated it like the time they'd gone to the public pool and gone swimming since the suits they'd worn hadn't left much to the imagination. The actual way to get clean was different, too, since it since they all got onto a moving floor kind of like the smaller ones he'd seen at the grocery store that moved the food to the cashiers so they could scan them. It moved in fits and spurts only staying still long enough to get sprayed with soapy water, scrubbed with brushes on metal arms and then rinsed in ice cold water.

He hated that part.

Once they were all done they all ran back out into their room and he went to the trunk at the foot of the bed where he'd been sleeping before opening it up. Inside there were several pairs of underwear, thick socks, sweatpants, a t-shirt and boots like the ones the adults were wearing. They all fit right but, when he looked at the front of his t-shirt, he noticed it had something written on it: Alex-zero-six-nine.

 _That's not my name,_ he thought with a frown. _My name's Alex Achilles._

Looking around, he saw that the other kids had the same kind of stuff written on their shirts.

James-zero-zero-five, Vinh-zero-three-zero, Kurt-zero-five-one, Kelly-zero-eight-seven…

 _Do these guys have problems counting or something?_ he thought as he let go of his shirt and stopped looking around.

"Now OUTSIDE, trainees!" Chief announced in a way that didn't make you want to say 'no'. "Triple time… MARCH!"

All of them ran out of the room, down the hall and out a door that led to the outside, letting him see where they were for the first time with enough light to see clearly with. They were definitely on some kind of army base, he'd seen enough commercials showing what they looked like to know one when he saw one, and there was a really tall wire fence at the edge. At the top of the fence were circles of sharp wires that he was pretty sure neither he or Joy would be able to get past without cutting themselves pretty badly.

 _So that means tunneling under it or finding out where the gate is._

"You will make five equal-length rows. Fifteen trainees in each row," Chief barked like a dog in a seriously bad mood.

All the kids did their best, him and Joy included, to do what they'd been told to do but a couple of the kids must've been half asleep since they were having problems. The bad teachers and Chief got them in the right places quickly enough, though Harper used his pain stick a little too often.

"Jumping jacks!" Chief commanded in a tone that would not be defied. "Count off to one hundred. Ready… GO!"

 _A HUNDRED?!_ he thought with a bit of surprise. _I've never done more than twenty-five before._

One boy didn't do jumping jacks and he got hit in the stomach with the pain stick, sending him shaking to the ground before one of the bad teachers told him to get back up and 'get with the program'. Once the boy was able to he did what the rest of them had been told to do. It wasn't easy, even though he was one of the strongest kids back at the orphanage, and by the time he hit one hundred with everyone else he could feel the sweat on his body. It wasn't quite dripping off of him but he'd definitely set a new record for himself.

"Sit-ups!" Chief ordered with barely a couple seconds rest between the last jumping jack and his new command. "Count off to one hundred. NO SLACKING!"

Dropping to the ground he began to do sit-ups and, while feeling a little tired from the jumping jacks, he still wasn't too worried about whether or not he'd be able to do all of them.

"The first crewman who quits gets to run around the compound twice…" Chief said as he walked around the rows, "…and then comes back here and does TWO hundred sit-ups."

Excellent incentive to do his best and do all one hundred.

However, as time went on and sit-ups became deep squats, which then transformed into knee bends, he began to wonder just how much more he'd be able to handle before his body just gave out. Everyone else was in the same boat, with some barely managing to force their bodies to do what they wanted with a fair bit of trembling mixed in. Joy was having it hard from what he could see but this came as no surprise because, even though she joined in the same games he had back at the orphanage, she hadn't taken them as seriously. Still, she had that stubborn look on her face, like she didn't want the bad teachers to get the better of her, so she kept on doing the exercises as best she could.

Eventually, though, the exercises came to an end and the Chief ordered the bad teachers to bring out the water. Now he usually preferred something with a bit more sugar in it but at the moment all he wanted was to quench his thirst, so water would do just fine, thank you very much. Chugging it down it didn't take him long to finish the bottle and, when it was done he thought about grabbing another one but decided not to in the end. Chief probably had more work for them to do and, if he drank too much, he'd have to use the washroom that much sooner.

He doubted they'd be kind enough to let him. They'd probably tell him to hold it in until they were done and hit him with the pain stick if he failed.

"A good start, trainees," the Chief said without even a hint of a smile. "Now we run. On your FEET!"

 _This isn't any fun at ALL!_ He did his best to get moving along with the other kids so as not to give Harper the opening he needed to use his pain stick.

Still, as they jogged down the gravel path through the army base and beyond, there was one benefit to the hated running and that was getting a good idea of the layout of the base. If he was going to help Joy get out, he needed to know where everything was and this was as good an opportunity to find out as any other time. His memory wasn't quite as good as Joy's but he was sure that she was looking about just as much as he was and between them they'd be able to draw a decent enough map. Once they had that they could begin coming up with an escape plan.

In his mind they'd have to spend a month here, maybe two, and then they'd be ready to make a break for it.

The reason why he figured they'd have to stay here so long was because he was certain that they'd have to be in the best condition of their lives to make it out. He was good but he could get better and Joy was passable but needed time to catch up with him. Plus he was pretty sure the Chief and the bad teachers would be watching them the first couple of weeks to see if anyone tried to get out. Better to wait until they got bored before trying to sneak out.

Eventually they came to a building with a dome on top and several columns near the steps leading to the entrance. Over the top arch of the entrance were the words 'Naval Officers Academy' and that pretty much clinched it that the people who'd taken all these kids and lied about adopting Joy were military people. Weren't they supposed to be the good guys? In all the cartoon vids he'd seen soldiers were supposed to help and protect people from the bad ones that broke the law and wanted to hurt people. Why were they doing this? Were they the bad guys dressed up as good guys trying to make them into bad people? He didn't know but, when the ghost woman from earlier appeared above a circle near the door, he decided to save such thoughts until later.

"Excellent work, Chief Petty Officer Mendez," the ghost lady said with a pretty voice before turning to face the group of kids. "Welcome. My name is Déjà and I will be your teacher. Please come in. Class is about to start."

A lot of the kids groaned out loud at this and he couldn't blame them since he hadn't liked the lessons he'd had to take back at the orphanage much either. He really preferred playing outside or cooking something new in the kitchen, but the sisters back home had made it clear that he could only do those things after his lessons. Predictably Joy actually looked interested in learning something new but that was also no surprise to him. Even when they weren't sitting in lessons back at the orphanage he could usually find her reading a book she'd borrowed from the public library. He didn't know why she bothered since just about everyone was accessible via COM pad but she'd told him once that she preferred the feel of a real book to a COM pad.

"Of course if you prefer to skip your lessons, you may continue the morning calisthenics," Déjà said as she turned as though to walk into the building.

He was pretty sure she couldn't move out of the circle she was in but figured there had to be other circles inside the building that she could go to. In any case, every kid in the group, including him, jumped at the chance to get a break from the Chief's exercises, even if it did mean listening to boring stuff.

It was definitely nice and cool inside so that was good, but when he looked at the food that'd been laid out for them he came to one undeniable conclusion.

 _They think we're mice!_ he thought as he looked at the combination of crackers and milk.

After the workout he'd just been put through he wanted a sandwich instead of crackers, along with a cupcake. The milk was fine, even if it wasn't chocolate flavored, but the crackers were way too stale and nowhere near numerous enough to fill his tummy. Still, he didn't think complaining would do any good so he took the portion that'd been set aside for him and took a seat, hoping that this turned out to just be the appetizer.

It turned out it was just a snack for them to eat while Déjà showed them a holographic countryside and told them the story of how three hundred warriors managed to inflict devastating losses on an army of thousands. It was a story he knew all too well since he'd asked Reverend Mommy about the middle name they'd given him and she'd told him about King Leonidas of Sparta.

Okay, so maybe the lessons wouldn't be TOO boring.

 _ **The Office of Doctor Katherine Halsey**_

 _ **Three Months Later**_

 _ **Doctor Halsey's POV**_

"Why are you frowning, Petty Officer?" she asked even as the man sat down in front of her desk with a folder in hand.

"I haven't been able to catch him at anything but I'm sure zero-six-nine is up to something," Mendez replied with his frown, neither looking angry or puzzled.

If she had to compare it to anything it was like he was an A.I. encountering an error he couldn't quite resolve.

"Oh? What's given you cause to think that?" she asked, mildly intrigued at the news about her last minute addition to the list of subjects.

"From the beginning he's been keeping his eyes open and taking everything in," he replied, looking like he was reviewing the facts even as he spoke of them. "Not like a kid trying to figure out where they were but rather like a soldier trying to build a mental map. He's also been talkin' to zero-seven-zero. She's been keeping her eyes peeled, too, but not being quite as careful as him."

"Both subjects have a history with one another, so their continued interaction is no surprise," she said, subtly trying to emphasize that they were numbers, not people. "As for acting like a soldier, I'm told it's a popular game for someone their age."

"This wasn't a kid playing a game, Halsey," Mendez said, ignoring her subtle point. "I've seen newbies fresh into boot camp playing at being soldiers. They weren't half as sharp as zero-six-nine was being, taking in the run routes I've been taking'em down."

 _Interesting,_ she thought as she remembered how the subject had managed to tail her and Lieutenant Keyes to the shuttle. _More evidence of pursuit and covert ops training._

Under the cover of looking for potential new points of view, she'd requested any information on efforts by other groups to turn children into soldiers in the last ten years. Neither the source nor the intel could be verified or precisely described since doing so would make it easier for any watchers to narrow down what she was really after. However, even though there were a few such operations rumored to have existed, none of them existed close enough to Arcadia to be where zero-six-nine received training. Indeed, based on what she'd learned, the only ones who were close enough to be acceptable possibilities had been shut down by USNC forces well before subject zero-six-nine would've been capable of being trained. Even after she'd traced the history of the orphanage to see if something was going on behind the scenes, she couldn't find a logical explanation for the subject's skills.

If there was one thing that bothered her it was not having the answers to her questions.

"Have you found any evidence of an escape attempt in the planning stages?" she asked, determining that that was the likely purpose of the memorizing of the surroundings.

"Not yet. They'll have to commit it to COM pad or paper sooner or later, though, to bring everything they've memorized together," he replied with a shake of his head. "I'll be waiting to catch them when they do."

"Good. Be vigilant, Petty Officer," she said strongly before deciding to move things along. "Now update me on the progress of the subjects' training. It's been three months so I would think you'd have a firm grasp of their individual strengths and weaknesses."

"Yeah, I've got their numbers, alright," he said as he opened the folder in his hand. "They've already started gravitating into groups of two to six and for the most part they mesh well. Had to break'em up into threes, though, for this part of the training, but that helped up efficiency by making sure all three had something to compliment the others. Here're the team lists I think'd work best for the group exercises."

Taking the piece of paper he'd passed her, she looked down the list of suggested groups and nodded in agreement since the groupings did allow the aptitudes of each subject to fill the gaps in the other two's abilities. If they continued to progress in their respective fields until completion of phase one, they would make a most effective unit on missions. However it was as she saw the grouping involving Alex-zero-six-nine that she saw something that she knew had to be changed in order to evade a potential hindrance to the Program.

"Replace one-four-one with zero-two-three," she ordered without any emotion.

"May I ask why?" he asked, giving nothing away in terms of tone of voice or facial expression.

"Suffice it to say that having zero-seven-zero interact with one-four-one could produce a… complication… I'd rather avoid if at all possible," she replied, not wanting to give the man the entire truth. "It would hinder their training unnecessarily."

"Very well. I'll make the change tomorrow," he said, not bothering to probe any deeper for her reasons.

From there the meeting went like all the others they'd had bi-weekly since phase one had officially begun. As before she only needed to make minor recommendations to the man about training the subjects since she'd seen firsthand that he did not go easy on them. Once he'd learned their physical limitations during the first week, he knew just how hard he could push them before they'd break and become useless to the Program. The man had trained raw recruits many times before and the results had never failed to satisfy those in charge, so he made the ideal chief instructor for the Program's subjects. Best of all the man didn't pry too deeply when she gave him an order that was somewhat… unusual. She just had to give him a reply that covered the essentials and that was enough to get him to comply. Each of them knew their domain as far as the Program went and neither of them trespassed into the other's territory due to frivolous curiosity. It was a good and solid working relationship that was helping the Program progress at an acceptable rate of speed.

Once Mendez finished his summary of the training he'd put the subjects through she informed him of the results of the bi-weekly physicals each of them went through as well as the more specialized tests. Due to the nature of phase two it was necessary to stay on top of each subject's physiological status and make adjustments when necessary to either diet or training. All of the subjects needed to be optimum condition if she was going to keep the survival rate as high as it possibly could get. She'd continue to consult with various experts in the relevant fields, provided she received O.N.I. authorization, in an effort to increase the odds of subject survival. Sadly, given the timeline she was forced to work with, she didn't hold out much hope of someone making a revolutionary breakthrough in the necessary fields in less than eight years.

Nevertheless, the seriousness of her task required that she utilize every resource at her disposal in order to achieve optimum results. Anything less would only give ammunition to her enemies within the Office of Naval Intelligence and she would not permit that.

Before they could finish the meeting, however, Déjà appeared above the holo-pad built into her desk.

"I am sorry to interrupt your meeting, Doctor Halsey, but a situation has arisen requiring your attention," Déjà said in her usual polite manner.

"What is it, Déjà?" she asked, knowing that the artificial intelligence wouldn't barge in without a good reason.

"I am afraid that Jai-zero-zero-six and Adriana-one-one-one have made another escape attempt and managed to make it over the perimeter fence," Déjà replied without concern. "As per your standing orders a team of trainers have armed themselves with tranquilizer rifles and have left in pursuit."

"Those two have earned another three days of solitary for this," Mendez grumbled in mild frustration at yet another example of the two subjects managing to slip through his security measures.

For the last two and a half months the two subjects had made repeated attempts to escape the complex and each time they managed to get just that little bit further. Indeed, it wasn't inconceivable that they might eventually succeed in making it to a populated area before the pursuit team could find them and that would lead to bothersome complications. Not only would it represent a security risk for the Program but it would also give her rivals something to use when they called her competency into question. If she couldn't keep six year old children confined to territory set aside for the Program, then perhaps someone else should be placed in charge. That's what they'd say if the matter was brought before the O.N.I. brass.

She could not allow that to happen.

"Emphasize to the pursuit team that all haste must be given to their recapture but that the subjects are to be brought back with minimal damage," she ordered with a tone as solid as stone. "Also begin reviewing security data to find out how they managed to escape this time. I want those holes in complex security plugged up ASAP."

"Understood, Doctor Halsey," Déjà said before disappearing from the holo-pad.

Still, it would be wasteful of her to let the skill subjects zero-zero-six and one-one-one displayed with their escapes go to waste. If they had an aptitude for breaking out of a secure facility then it stood to reason they might also possess skill in breaking into one. Once completed, her SPARTANs would be called upon to serve in a variety of capacities, not just as front line soldiers, so nurturing infiltration and exfiltration skills could prove to be quite the asset. Looking at the third member of the team zero-zero-six was a part of, she found that one-two-zero had shown to be adept with technology, making him a good fit for an espionage unit.

 _I'll have Déjà schedule more classes in the necessary fields for these three,_ she thought even as she concluded her meeting with Mendez.

Thus things began to take shape and she looked forward to seeing the final result.

 _ **A Transport Flying Over a Forest**_

 _ **Joy's POV**_

Two years.

It was hard to believe that it'd been two years since she and Alex had left Arcadia and come to Reach to be turned into soldiers for the UNSC. In the early months she'd been dead set on escaping and finding a way to get back to Arcadia, back to Saint Joseph's Orphanage, and Alex had been right there with her. They'd even managed to find other kids willing to work with them to figure out a way to escape, but some had thought it too risky to work together in such a large group. Jai and Adriana only worked with each other and their attempts happened as often as they could make it happen but neither of them had managed to make it to the nearest city on Reach. She'd suggested following them in the hopes that superior numbers would be enough to get them past their pursuers but Alex had said it'd be best to let the duo go one their own. He was certain that the trainers sent out after them wouldn't kill them or even seriously hurt them. By letting them take the lead the rest of them would gain valuable intel on the weaponry, tactics and abilities of the pursuers, allowing them to adjust their plans, making them that much more likely to succeed.

After six months, though, all they'd learned was that trying to escape back to civilization on foot wasn't an option since it had become clear that civilization was a good distance away from them. That only left stealing a Warthog or a Pelican but none of them knew how to drive one or fly the other, so they'd been forced to wait until they reached that part of their training.

Each day was comprised of two parts: one half would train their bodies while the other half trained their minds. The Chief would push them to their limits physically and then force them to go beyond them if they wanted to succeed at their assigned mission. Failure meant punishment that varied between not getting supper along with the other kids or being asked to do double what the others had been tasked with doing, regardless of how long it took. It was clear that the man was determined to make them as good as possible but, while some wanted to hate him, only the more irrational ones managed to do so. The rest quickly came to realize that, while the Chief was strict and held them to high standards, he was never unnecessarily cruel like some of the other instructors. He didn't shower them with praise when they met a challenge he gave them but they were able to get a measure of approval out of him.

The other half of the day they spent with Déjà, who was in charge of training their minds on a variety of subjects like math, physics, writing and military tactics. The A.I. was the nicer of the two instructors but didn't give them any leeway when it came to learning what she had to teach them and insisted that they get it absolutely right. She didn't mind this since she'd always liked reading and didn't have any trouble remembering anything, so she always got the best marks on the tests. Alex had it a little harder but she knew he was smarter than he let on.

Even if it got him in trouble, her best friend Alex always did what he could to cheer up the kids who started crying because they missed their families, even if it made him look like an idiot. The Chief got mad at this, though, and usually yelled at her friend for behaving like a fool, but Alex didn't mind. To him seeing the crying turn to laughing made the pain sticks and solitary confinement worth it. He'd even tried to sneak into the kitchen of the complex at night for food but he always got caught before he could steal anything. Alex told the grown ups that he was just hungry and wanted more food but she knew the truth because of what he'd asked her to do their first week on Reach.

He'd asked her to get the full names, home planets and birthdays of every kid in the SPARTAN II program.

Alex had known from the beginning that the adults would try to make them forget their past and he hadn't been about to let them do that to all of them. He'd known that a piece of paper could be found and destroyed but her photographic memory would ensure that the truth would never be forgotten. Then afterwards, whenever someone's birthday came around, Alex would try to sneak into the kitchen to get a frosted cupcake or some other cake-like desert to give to the birthday boy or girl. He hadn't succeeded yet but the other kids still appreciated him trying and so did she. Every day of training, of lessons, were hard on them, pushing both body as well as mind to the limit in order to meet the demands of the instructors. Any balm, any bit of kindness, they received was treasured and gave them the strength they needed to keep going for a while longer.

"At ease, recruits, and sit down," the Chief commanded as he stepped out of the cockpit. "Today's mission will be a simple for a change. Pass these out, recruit."

The man then gave a handful of small pieces of paper to Kelly.

"Sir!" Kelly replied, saluting perfectly just as they'd been instructed to do early on.

One by one all seventy-six of her friends received a piece of paper and, when Kelly was done, the Chief explained what they'd be for.

"These are portions of maps of the local region. You will be set down by yourselves," the Chief said, letting his gaze pass over each of them. "You will then navigate to a marked extraction point and we will pick you up there."

Turning over her piece of paper, she could tell that it was part of a much larger map but there wasn't near enough there to let her know where the extraction point was located.

"One more thing," the Chief said in one of those 'this is not open for discussion' tones. "The last trainee to make it to the extraction point will be left behind and it's a VERY long walk back."

 _No shit!_ she thought, remembering the phrase she'd heard one of the trainers use once sarcastically. _It took us twenty minutes by Pelican to get out here by air. On foot… the last kid would be lucky to reach the complex by sundown._

"Trainee one-one-seven, you're up first," the Chief said, pointing to the rear hatch of the aircraft.

It was a couple of minutes later that hope arrived when Kelly poked her covertly in the arm to get her attention before gesturing to look at the river they could all see out the window. At first she didn't get what the girl was trying to pass on but then her lessons under Déjà kicked in and she understood: a rally point. No matter where they all got dropped off, if they all rallied to the river or the spot where the river fed into the lake, they could regroup. Once that happened they'd just have to piece together the bigger map using their individual pieces!

She couldn't help but smile brightly on the inside even as she kept it from showing up on the outside.

Over the next half hour all seventy-six of them got dropped off and Alex got let go before her, making her the last one out but she wasn't worried. They had a good plan and, since it was probably John's idea, it made him a good leader. So long as they followed his lead, they'd be fine.

"Get going zero-seven-zero," the Chief said as the Pelican came to a stop just above the treetops of her drop off point.

She wasn't scared because they'd been taught how to jump down from heights like this without getting hurt, so without hesitation she jumped, making sure to go into a roll upon hitting the ground. As soon as she was back on her feet she began to make her way for the river. She'd done her best to keep track of it as each of her friends was dropped off so she'd at least know which side of it she was on. Getting her bearings and listening for the faint sound of running water she broke into a run, heading for the river so that she could hook up with the others.

There were no prepared paths for her to follow and, since she'd never been out there she didn't know the topography either. so there'd been a couple of times there'd been a drop too high for her to get down without a rope. She'd also remembered the Chief's warning to John about the wolves but she wasn't sure if he was being serious or not about that. Then she'd remembered who she was dealing with and had kept an eye out for suspicious movement that might turn out to be a wolf slinking through the bushes towards her.

An hour later and she finally managed to make it to the mouth of the river and with a bit of satisfaction she saw that she was the sixth person there, with Kelly being the only girl. Not surprising seeing as how everyone had learned early on in their training that the dark haired girl was the fastest of them all. It took another half an hour before everyone else showed up but when they did John had three of them scout the area just in case the Chief had set up some surprises for them. It was something that they'd all come to expect from the man: his missions were never as cut and dry as he made them sound during the briefing. There were always hidden elements meant to keep them on their toes or to hammer home the fact that they had to expect the unexpected if they wanted to win.

Once the scouts were gone the rest of them brought forth their pieces of paper and Kelly began to piece them together like one big jigsaw puzzle. There were a lot of pieces and you couldn't really know how they were supposed to fit together if you'd never seen the complete picture before. Still, they eventually had what looked to be the complete map.

"Some of these don't belong and some are copies," Kelly said after she'd put the last piece into place, "but I think I have it right. This is the lake… and this is the river here… so that's got to be the extraction point."

Looking at the spot on the map the girl had pointed out, she had to agree that it looked different from the rest of the map and certainly looked like it could be the spot they were supposed to go to.

"If the map's right then it's a full day's hike from here," she said, using her knowledge of geography and map reading to make sense of what they were being shown. "We'd better get started."

A whistle from John called Sam, Fhajad, James and Linda back from their scouting positions, and then the order was given to set out for the extraction point.

Breaking into the teams that the Chief had put them into, they spread out as far as they could without losing sight of one another and then began to move. They'd learned early on that staying in one large group might sound smart but all it really did was present a big fat target for hostiles. Seeing as how they didn't know what sort of tricks the Chief had in store for them, staying separated would minimize the damage any surprises might inflict.

They weren't gonna be taken down without a fight.

 **Bushes a Short Distance From the Extraction Area**

 **Xander's POV**

 _What's taking them so long?_ he thought as he waited for Sam, Kelly and John to get back.

They were less than two hundred yards from the extraction point but John had ordered them to remain there while he and two others scouted ahead. It wasn't that he thought it was a bad idea or anything, given how tricky the Chief could be with his missions, but the longer the three remained missing, the more likely that something bad had happened. Either they'd bumped into some sort of obstacle that was taking them a long time to examine or they'd been caught by some of the Chief's men. If it was the former then they should come back and get Michael and Joy since they were by far the two smartest kids in the Program and could figure out what to do no problem. If it was the latter, the hostiles could be bearing down on their position, meaning they needed to get away quickly if they wanted to avoid capture too.

He was about to take charge and tell everyone to scatter when John and the others finally reappeared, looking fine and not under any duress, like someone being forced to sell out his friends would be.

"We've got trouble. There's a drop ship at the extraction point but the men around it aren't the Chief's and they aren't wearing UNSC uniforms," John explained quietly to the assembled group. "We have to assume that they're not just going to give us a ride back to base."

"So what do we do?" Joy asked, sounding like she was formulating a few ideas of her own.

John had an expression on his face he knew all too well: it was the face of someone wondering why they had to be the one to come up with an answer. The fact of the matter was that, whether they knew it or not, just about everyone saw John as the leader of their group and had believed in this fact since before the current mission. Out of all of them John had worked the hardest to win and had done what he could to make sure everyone else did as well. Sure, he'd thought about making himself the leader once but in the end it'd just seemed like too much work and he was content enough to be a loyal friend instead.

"Okay… we don't know who these men are or what they'll do when they see us," John said as a plan formed in his mind. "So we find out."

It was a reasonable course of action to probe a potential threat before committing more resources to the mission.

"Here's how we'll do it," John said, looking about the group. "First, I'll need a rabbit."

"That's me," Kelly said, standing up from her crouching position. "I'm the fastest."

"Good," John said with a nod of agreement. "You go to the edge of the meadow where they are and let them see you. I'll go along and hide nearby and watch. In case anything happens to you, I'll report back to the others."

Kelly didn't seem to mind this part of the plan but he didn't like the idea of leaving the girl to fend for herself if the unknown men turned out to be hostiles. She was fast but a rabbit could be stopped cold if you hurt their legs bad enough. If that's the way it went down, though, he'd be the first to suggest mounting a rescue operation to get her back. He didn't think he'd have to since John had shown himself unwilling to leave a comrade behind in the past but he'd keep it in mind just in case.

"Once they see you, lure a few back here. Run right to this spot," John said, pointing to the ground at the center of their little gathering. "Sam, you'll be out in the open pretending you've broken your leg."

"Gotcha," Sam said before going over to Fhajad to get the boy to scrape his boot against his knee to make a convincing wound.

"The rest of you will wait in the woods in a big circle around Sam's position," John said, looking at those that were without a task. "If they try to do anything but help Sam… remember Déjà's story about the moose and the wolves?"

He had to smile a bit at this and Missy liked the idea as well, judging from the feelings he was getting from her. Kelly was the bait, Sam was the wounded prey and when the unknowns moved in for the kill there'd be one big ambush waiting for them. With the plan made they each began to prepare, with Kelly taking off her parka to stretch while Sam got on the ground practicing his wounded kid routine.

"Don't overdo it," John said before kicking some dirt on Sam, "or they'll know it's a setup."

Picking up a decent sized rock he made a few practice swings with it to make sure it had just the right amount of heft to be able to do some damage to the unknown men. He glanced in Kelly's direction, seeing John say something to her, only for the girl to slug him hard in the arm. The guy was probably offering to take her place only for the girl's pride to flare up. If there was one thing Kelly was proud about it was the fact that she was the fastest kid in the Program. None of the rest of them could quite match her, even if a few of them could come close for short periods of time.

As soon as Kelly left they all spread out, hiding behind trees and bushes and anything else that'd keep them from being seen by whoever the girl managed to lure back. He managed to find the perfect spot behind a fallen tree trunk that'd allow him a clear line of sight to Sam while also providing him with some protection against gunfire. He HOPED that the unknowns didn't have guns but it was better to be safe than sorry.

A little over five minutes later Kelly returned running right past Sam into the bushes, followed a few seconds behind by one other guy. Not the best results since he would've preferred that they lure at least half of the unknowns into this kill zone but they'd work with what they had. Seeing the man forget about Kelly and kneel down next to Sam, he waited to see what would happen next, frowning when a short while later the unknown brought up his shock stick.

 _Definitely an enemy!_ he thought having dark memories about being on the receiving end of the shock stick.

As one the group of seventy-six kids threw their rocks at the man, taking care not to hit Sam before he rolled clear of the hostile. In seconds it was over, the man unconscious on the ground with blood trickling from a head wound. Picking up another rock that was close by he advanced cautiously, just in case the guy was faking it, but after a minute of nothing everyone concluded that what they were seeing was the truth.

"What do we do with him?" Sam asked, pointing out a very important problem.

What were they going to do with the hostile? It wasn't like they had a jail to put him in.

"It's just an exercise, right?" Fhajad said, sounding like he was uncertain about what was really going on. "He has to be with Mendez."

"You saw what he was going to do," John whispered, not sounding like he believed in that possibility. "Mendez or our trainers would never do that to us. Ever. He's got no uniform or insignias. He's not one of us. Get his baton."

Sam complied before kicking the unconscious man in the ribs.

"Kelly, go back and get more of them to come here," John ordered the dark haired girl. "You just have to get them to the edge of the clearing this time. Duck out once they're there and let us do the rest."

With that they all went back to their hiding places and he figured it wouldn't be hard to get the remaining hostiles out into the clearing with their comrade unconscious in the middle of it. Even if they didn't feel even a little bit of loyalty to each other, they'd want to confirm their comrade's status and that'd cause most of them to go to his side to check for a pulse. When that happened they'd suffer the same fate, gaining him and his friends more effective weapons while also reducing the number of hostiles guarding the extraction ship. Even if the ones on guard duty had guns they'd be outnumbered, and if the weapons gained were given to the fastest amongst them, the possibility of one of them getting shot would be minimal.

To him the mission was already over.

All that was left was to seal the deal and he had no doubt in his mind that they'd do that within the next five minutes.

With this kind of success the Chief was going to have to do better on the next mission he dreamt up.

 _ **Orbiting UNSC Satellite Above Reach**_

 _ **Doctor Catherine Halsey's POV**_

It was amazing how quickly six years could go by.

She felt like it'd only been yesterday that she'd given the order to have the seventy-four other test subjects rounded up and brought to Reach to join zero-six-nine and zero-seven-zero. Six years. Seventy-two months. Almost twenty-two hundred days. Phase One had come to a close and they were on the verge of beginning Phase Two. Looking out through the observation room window, she looked at the seventy-six isolation units that occupied the room aboard the O.N.I. medical facility orbiting Reach. Each of them was a sealed environment and had assigned to each of them the best surgeons and biotechnicians the Office of Naval Intelligence could get their hands on. Each of them had been thoroughly scrubbed with conventional cleaning implements and then irradiated in order to ensure that no germs or harmful bacteria existed inside. They were in the final stages of preparation for the augmentations that would be performed in there soon but, looking at them now, she couldn't help but wonder if she'd overlooked anything.

This was where the most things could go wrong, after all.

The fact that she was waiting for the final word from Admiral Jeromi on the consult she'd requested of him certainly didn't help her mood.

"Doctor Halsey? I am receiving an encrypted transmission addressed to you," Déjà said, for once not holographically appearing before her. "It is from Admiral Jeromi of the UNSC Research Station Hopeful."

"I want that transmission decoded immediately," she ordered, letting her impatience seep through the cracks.

"The encryption scheme is extremely complex," Déjà replied, sounding a little irritated at being spoken to so snappily. "I don't even know why they bothered. Who else but Beta-Five Division even has the resources to use this data?"

"Spare me the banter, Déjà," she said in a chilly tone. "I'm not in the mood. Just concentrate on the decryption and when it's complete display the files on my glasses."

"Yes, Doctor," Déjà said, regaining a more professional tone of voice.

It took about five minutes for the decryption to be completed and another two before the retinal scan and brain pattern analysis confirmed her identity, allowing her to view the files.

 _Catherine, I am afraid further analysis has yielded no viable alternatives to mitigate the risks in your proposed 'hypothetical' experimentation. I have, however, attached the synopsis of my team's findings as well as all relevant case studies. Perhaps you will find them useful,_ the cover letter file displayed to her eyes as she used eye blinks to scroll down. _I hope it is a hypothetical study… the use of Binobo chimpanzees in your proposal is troublesome. These animals are expensive and rare now since they are no longer bred in captivity. I would hate to see such valuable specimens wasted in some Section Three project. Best, Y.J._

With the personal part over with, something she was thankful for since she didn't like the man's veiled rebuke of her work, she moved on to the chemical/biological risks the man had determined could happen if she went through with the augmentations.

First was the carbide ceramic ossification of the skeletal structure of the subjects in order to make the bones virtually unbreakable by any known method. The synopsis recommended that coverage not exceed three percent of the total bone mass due to the fact that doing so would result in significant white blood cell necrosis. The specific risk for subjects like the ones she would be using would be irreparable bone pulverization due to the growth spurts common for most people from this age going onward.

Next was the muscular enhancement injections that involved the injecting of a protein complex intramuscularly in order to increase tissue density and decrease lactase acid recovery time. The risk of this augmentation was that five percent of the subjects who underwent the procedure to date experienced a fatal cardiac volume increase.

The catalytic thyroid implant came next, wherein a platinum pellet containing a human growth hormone catalyst would be implanted in the thyroid of the subject, boosting the growth of skeletal and muscular tissues. Jeromi's efforts concluded that there was a slim chance of the subject contracting elephantiasis as well as having their sex drive suppressed.

 _Not that there'd be much in the way of opportunities for that to be of use given that they'd turn any normal human partner into jelly should they survive their augmentations,_ she thought, not considering the latter risk to be a big loss.

Occipital capillary reversal followed and it involved the submergence and boosted blood vessel flow beneath the rods and cones of the subject's retina. If successful there'd be a marked visual perception increase but there was also the risk of retinal rejection and detachment which would result in permanent blindness in the subject.

Last came the superconducting fibrification of the neural dendrites done via alteration of the bioelectrical nerve transduction to shielded electronic transduction. Doing this would result in a three hundred percent increase in the subject's reflexes with the side benefits being a marked increase in intelligence, memory and creativity. The risk, however, was the significant chance of Parkinson's disease and Fletcher's syndrome.

Her mind was aflutter with the potential consequences to the augmentations and on automatic pilot more than anything else she closed the file and erased all traces of it from the system. She then sent Déjà to track the file pathways all the way back to the research station Hopeful so Jeromi's copies of the materials would also be eradicated. Only once this was done did she remove her glasses and pinch the bridge of her nose as the enormity of what she was about to do came down on her.

"I'm sorry," Déjà said with some sympathy. "I, too, had hoped there would be some new process to lower the risks."

"I have doubts, Déjà," she said with a sigh as she put her glasses in her pocket. "I thought the reasons so compelling when we first started the SPARTAN II Program. Now? I… I just don't know."

"I have been over the O.N.I. projections of Outer Colony stability three times, Doctor," Déjà said in her normal inhuman way. "Their conclusion is correct: massive rebellion within twenty years unless drastic military action is taken. And you know the 'drastic military action' the brass would like. The SPARTAN IIs are our only option to avoid overwhelming civilian losses. They will be the perfect pinpoint strike force. They can prevent a civil war."

Yes. That was the scenario that had caused her to propose the Program in the first place and likely what had convinced those in charge to support her Program. If civil war broke out between the inner and outer colonies, the death toll would be staggering not just for the soldiers on either side but also for the civilians caught in between. The Insurrectionists over the last six years had made it clear that they didn't care about the civilians that they'd killed in an effort just to assassinate just one valuable target. Then again O.N.I. and the UNSC had proven they could be equally ruthless when they had to be and used 'acceptable losses' to explain away the civilian body count. If things continued down the path they were currently on it'd lead to escalation that would inevitably lead to weapons of mass destruction becoming the standard rather than the option of last resort. Only through her creations could this horrible future possibly be avoided and all it'd cost her was the deaths of potentially half of her subjects.

"Only if they survive to fulfill that mission, Déjà," she said, countering the A.I's statement. "We should delay the procedures. More research needs to be done. We could use that time to work on MJOLNIR. We need time to-"

"There is another reason to proceed expeditiously," Déjà interrupted with some wariness in her tone. "Although I am loath to bring this to your attention, I must. If the Office of Naval Intelligence detects a delay in their prize project, you will likely be replaced by someone who harbors… fewer doubts. And regrettably for the children, most likely someone less qualified."

She was right.

She was right and she hated it!

Without another word she left the observation room to find Mendez waiting for her in the hallway.

"Walk with me, Chief," she said without breaking stride.

They took the nearby stairs to the pre-op wing of the hospital and upon arriving went to room one one seven, where John lay in his bed with an IV drip attached to his arm. His head had been shaved like all the others and incision vectors had been lasered into his entire body. Despite these actions which many would consider indignities, she couldn't help but marvel at what a physical specimen he'd grown into. Fourteen years old and he had the body of an eighteen year old Olympic athlete and a mind the equal of any Naval Academy honors graduate.

"How are you feeling?" she asked while forcing the best smile she could muster given the circumstances.

"I'm fine, ma'am. No thanks to Alex's prank earlier," John replied a little groggily.

She couldn't help but genuinely chuckle at this statement. In the entire six years since she'd brought Alex-zero-six-nine to Reach, the boy had been equal parts excellent soldier and chaos theory personified. He'd done so well with his lessons under Mendez that there'd been talk of making him John's second or third in command when it came to the SPARTAN IIs as a whole. At the same time, however, he'd regularly broken rules and regulations in order to, in his own words, 'keep his new family human'. From the beginning she'd done what she could to distance the subjects from their former lives, if not cut them off completely by trying to wipe their surnames out of existence as far as they were concerned. In spite of this Alex and Joyce did everything they could to counter their work, either by celebrating each subject's birthday to holding little gatherings filled with stories of the past. Mendez, the trainers, Déjà and even she had done their best to discourage this but it never really had any affect. All it did was motivate Alex and Joyce to be all the more covert in their efforts, with John treating it like any other training exercise.

At the moment she found herself thankful that strange boy had managed to bring some light to what was no doubt going to be a very dark night.

"The nurse said the sedation would take effect soon," John said, continuing with his reply. "I'm fighting it to see how long I can stay awake but it's not easy."

Seeing the boy's gaze rise to go over her shoulder, she new he was looking at Mendez.

"I know this is one of your exercises, sir," John said, sounding much more like someone his age, "but I don't know what the twist is. Can you tell me, Doctor Halsey? Just this time? How do I win?"

She leaned closer to John as she recognized the signs of the sedation winning the battle and whispered into his ear, "I'll tell you how to win, John. You have to survive."

With that John was unconscious and, as she pulled back, she knew that the other subjects would also likely be unconscious by now. She'd give it another hour to be sure then she'd order that each of them be placed in their corresponding isolation units before ordering the augmentation procedures be started. That would be time enough for her to steel herself for what would come next, what she would force herself to watch, as she prayed to whatever god was listening to aid the children in whatever way possible.

She'd probably have more luck if she prayed to the other side but she'd dealt with enough devils in O.N.I. to know what that'd cost her.

 _ **The UNSC Atlas**_

 _ **Awhile After the Enhancement Procedures**_

 _ **Joy's POV**_

"Duty. Honor. Self-sacrifice," the Chief said as they stood in front of the ejection tubes containing the cremated remains of their dead friends. "Death does not diminish these qualities in a soldier. We shall remember our fallen. And so we commit the bodies of our fallen brothers and sisters to space."

In perfect unison the remaining thirty-four members of her family stood at attention and executed perfect salutes even as the containers in the tubes were shot into space, never to be seen again. She struggled to retain her composure, to stay the perfect soldier she'd been trained to become, but she just couldn't let go of the fact that thirty of her friends, her family, were dead. When she tried to think of the augmentation procedures all that came up was a blackness filled with unimaginable pain while screams echoed horribly in her mind. The doctors had told her that her mind was likely suppressing the traumatic experience and that in time she might be able to remember more.

She didn't know if she WANTED to remember more.

As everyone assumed a more at ease posture she looked at each of them, bandages and stiches still marring their appearances somewhat. She'd been told that it'd likely be three weeks before they'd be capable engaging in any sort of strenuous activity but that was nothing compared to what twelve of their number would have to endure. While thirty of their surrogate family had died as a result of the augmentation procedures, twelve of them had suffered side effects that would make it impossible for them to continue training with the rest of them. It hurt her to look at them but she knew it'd hurt them even more if she avoided looking at them altogether. Fhajad was confined to a wheelchair now and was shaking uncontrollably despite what she knew were his best efforts to stop. Musa was a bit better off in that he still in complete control of half of his body but she knew from his face that the pain he was feeling was almost unbearable even with the pain medication. Kirk and Rene were in neutral-buoyancy gel tanks, forced to breathe through respirators because their bones had been so twisted that it was hard to see them as human. The others were so sick that they couldn't even be moved from the medical facility to attend the funeral and, quite frankly, that was as much as she was comfortable thinking of at the moment.

As orderlies began to move the disabled members of her family out of the room, John moved to block them from reaching the elevator.

"Stand fast, crewman," John demanded with a stern look. "Where are you taking my men?"

"I, sir… I have my orders, sir," the orderly replied with wide eyes as he came to a halt.

"Squad Leader," Mendez said off to the side, attracting John's attention. "A moment."

With a single order for the orderly not to move from his current position John walked to Mendez to hear what the man had to say. They were too far away for her to hear but fortunately for her she'd learned how to lip read with Déjà's help, so with a few steps she was able to gain clear line of sight on both John and the Chief's mouths.

"Let them go," Mendez said to the Squad Leader of the SPARTAN IIs. "They can't fight anymore. They don't belong here."

"What will happen to them?" John asked after glancing out into space at the rapidly shrinking containers filled with human ash.

"The Navy takes care of its own," Mendez replied, lifting his chin a little higher. "They may no longer be the fastest or the strongest soldiers but they still have sharp minds. They can still plan missions, analyze data, troubleshoot ops…"

This seemed to put John at ease and, to be honest, she felt better as well. When she'd first seen the twelve who'd survived but had been irreparably harmed by the augmentations, her mind had come up with horrific futures for them. Futures were they were 'humanely' euthanized before being shot off into space. Futures where they'd been forced to live out their lives trapped in hospitals with nothing to look forward to but years of isolation from the rest of the world.

At least this way they could still be useful and that was the one thing everyone wanted to one degree or another.

"That's all any of us ask for, sir: a chance to serve," John said before turning to face Fhajad and the others before snapping to attention and saluting.

Fhajad barely managed to return the salute but manage it he did before the orderlies resumed their course for the elevator to take the injured away.

"Good news I hope?" came a voice from behind her that had her spinning around startled to see who it was.

"ALEX!" she exclaimed before punching him in the shoulder like she always did. "Don't do that!"

"Sorry," Alex said with the lopsided grin she'd come to know quite well. "So… good news?"

"Chief said Fhajad and the others wouldn't be abandoned. They'll be assigned to analyze data, troubleshoot ops and things like that instead of fighting," she replied before glancing at the elevator just in time to see it close.

"Good. After taking us from our families and putting us through all this, making sure they're taken care of is the least they can do," he said, sounding like he had planned on doing something drastic if she hadn't had good news.

Considering what he'd done in the past to make sure they never forgot where they came from or their real names, she didn't want to think about what he'd had in mind. It wasn't that Alex didn't respect the chain of command or see Halsey and Mendez as their surrogate parents, but rather that those he considered friends or family meant more to him than anything else.

Including his life, if necessary.

"Not having second thoughts, are you?" she asked, looking him right in the eye.

"About what?" he asked, looking like he wasn't sure what she was talking about.

"About not making a run for it because innocent people need our help," she clarified, watching as the light bulb switched on inside his head. "Remember last year? When you found out that the Insurrectionists hit the luxury liner National Holiday, killing everyone on board? Right up until then we'd been all set to make our escape with Daisy and Jai and Adriana. Then you came in, told us what had happened and said that if we left we'd be condemning all the people we could save to death. Remember that?"

"I remember and I still feel like that, it's just… it's just hard knowing thirty of our brothers and sisters are dead with twelve others seriously injured," he said, looking like he felt as badly as she did about the whole thing. "If we'd staged a mass break out and escaped, all of them would be alive and healthy right now."

"Or everything would've turned out just like it did," she said, pulling him into a hug. "There's no point thinking up 'what ifs' about the past. It's done and there's no turning back. All we can do is make sure their sacrifice means something and we do that by fighting the good fight for them."

His grin turned into a smile, "Since when did you get so good at pep talks?"

"Since you started brooding too much," she said with a mirroring smile.

"I'll have you know that I do NOT brood," he said with mock sharpness. "I quietly review past mission data and pick out all the mistakes that must never be repeated."

"You brood," she repeated and seconds later the both of them were chuckling with amusement.

When they were done she looked back at John and Mendez in time to catch that for the next two days they'd be restricted to bed rest before undergoing microgravity physical therapy until they recovered from the side effects of the augmentation. She knew what he was talking about because, ever since she regained enough strength to walk, she had difficulty doing so without falling over and her bones ached something fierce even with the pain medication she'd been given. The sooner her body got better, the happier she'd be.

Looking over to the third member of their team, Daisy, she could see the fellow blonde talking with Joseph and Ralph about something that was apparently quite serious, given the looks on their faces. Before she could start reading their lips, however, to find out what was wrong, Daisy noticed her and with a gesture led her trio out of the room. What was Daisy trying to keep a secret from her? She knew that of the three of them the girl from Sargasso had been the least convinced by Alex's speech about staying for the sake of future innocents. Unlike her and Alex, the third member of their team had had a loving family before she'd been conscripted into the SPARTAN II program. She didn't believe that the bonds she had with Reverend Mother, the sisters and the other kids at the orphanage were any less precious than the ones Daisy had with her parents. However, whenever the topic of staying with the Program popped up, she always got the impression that the girl believed her bonds were superior because they compelled her to leave.

Were those bonds calling to her now?

 _Please be careful, Daisy,_ she thought even though she knew it couldn't be heard by anyone but her. _Don't do anything you won't be able to undo._

 _ **The UNSC Ship Atlas**_

 _ **Three Weeks Later**_

 _ **Alex's POV**_

 _Three weeks and things still don't feel right,_ he thought as he made his way to the gym on the UNSC carrier Atlas. _Maybe some serious gym work will get things back to normal._

For the last three weeks he'd been put through a daily routine of stretching, isometric exercises, light sparring drills and a lot more eating than he'd done in the last six years. It wasn't even like the meals he used to have back at the orphanage! They'd been ordered to consume five high-protein meals a day instead of the usual three. He hadn't complained much at this since he'd always been fond of food and eating but he could've done without the injections they'd been forced to get in the medical bay. He'd never been a big fan of needles either before or after being recruited into the SPARTAN II Program and, after the augmentation procedures, he definitely didn't want any more unless it was absolutely necessary. With all the holes they'd poked in him with those shiny metal pointies, he was surprised he hadn't bled out on the deck yet. Joy said he was being stupid but he could tell that she wasn't liking the injections any more than he was.

He'd looked about for Daisy to see how she was doing, she was his teammate after all, but whenever he tried to get close enough to talk to her she found someplace else to be. Even when he tried to corner her during their light sparring sessions she faked being sick so she could be excused from the room. She was hiding something, something she was afraid he'd figure out if he had time to look at her or talk to her. He didn't like it and, after talking with Joy about it, they tried to talk to Ralph to see what he knew about it but the guy was tight lipped and, when pressed, escaped and evaded like Daisy had with him. With a sigh he turned the corner to the doors to the gym and decided he'd shelve the problem for now and focus on going through his workout regiment.

Entering the gym he saw that John had gotten there ahead of him but so had a quartet of men who looked like they were going to gang up on his squad leader. He was about to move to help when a hand came down on his shoulder stopping him. Turning he saw that it was Mendez who'd stopped him but he couldn't figure out why his chief instructor was preventing him from reinforcing John, given that he was outnumbered four to one. Sure, they'd been trained to combat up to five people at a time but that'd been in full combat gear with a basic weapons load out. With nothing but fists, feet and the hand-to-hand combat skills they'd been trained in, there was a strong chance that John might be hurt without backup. All Mendez did was gesture for him to stay silent and to watch what was about to occur.

Not knowing what the Chief was expecting but trusting the man nonetheless, he stood quietly as John's four opponents closed in on him. Two of the unknown men grabbed John by the biceps while a third tried to slip an arm around the neck of his target. It didn't work; before it could be cinched in his friend hunched his shoulders and tucked his chin to his chest to make the move impossible. Whipping his right elbow over the hand holding him, he pinned it to his side and then straight punched the man, breaking his nose. The remaining three tightened their grip in order to further limit John's movements but he knew that wouldn't work either. Their instructors had taught them what to do in situations like this and, based on what he could see, John knew exactly what was happening as well as what would happen. Certain patterns existed in hand-to-hand combat if you knew where to look and had eyes sharp enough to detect them. If there was one thing guaranteed to lead to defeat it was being predictable in your actions.

Even as he watched John duck and slip out of the grips of his attackers, he felt something… strange… but it wasn't a physical sensation. It was more like an emotion but somehow instinctively he knew it wasn't his. Anger, aggression and something else seemed to do circuits in his mind but he was still at a loss to determine their source. He was still fairly certain that they weren't his emotions so, if he followed that line of logic, then they had to be coming from someone else. Looking at John, he could tell that the emotions weren't coming from him because, just like Chief Mendez had taught them, you had to stay in control both mentally as well as physically in a fight. Looking at the man who'd been instructing him and the others for six years now, he immediately concluded that he wasn't the source either.

That left only one possibility: the four unknown men attacking John.

"Stand down!" came a booming male voice across the expanse of the gym.

Looking towards the source, he saw a man in a sergeant's uniform stepping away from the entrance to the gym on the far side of the room. Unlike Mendez, though, this guy was a little overweight and looked amused rather than stoic. John immediately recognized the man's rank and snapped to attention but the four unknowns just continued to glare at their target.

"Sarge…" the man with the bleeding and broken nose said. "We were just-"

"Did I ask you a question?" the Sergeant barked in inquiry.

"No, Sergeant!" the bleeding man promptly replied.

"If you're all so eager to fight then get in the ring and go at it," the Sergeant declared, glancing briefly at the location in question.

"Sir!" John said as he prompting did as he'd been told to do and got into the ring.

He knew what was happening but he didn't think that John realized the full truth of the situation. If the emotions he was feeling, the ones that he was certain were nor his own, were true, then there was no lethal intent in any of the four men. There was anger, aggression and maybe a desire to do harm but nothing that made him think they would actively try to kill John. For his friend, though, he knew that his fellow SPARTAN had a rather simple view of the world: there were only three types of people in the world. The first were his superior officers that he was to obey without question. The second were his fellow SPARTANs that he had to protect at all cost. The third were targets that he had to take down just like he'd been trained to do the last six years. Life was just that simple for John. For him, though, he knew that no unauthorized personnel would be aboard the UNSC Carrier Atlas at the moment and, judging by the physical condition of John's attackers, they were UNSC soldiers. This was only confirmed when he focused on the upper arm of one of the hostiles and saw the tattoo of a flaming skull with the letter inscribed below it. It was a symbol he'd seen tattooed in the same place on some of their instructors and he knew it stood for Orbital Drop Shock Troopers.

John was about to fight fellow soldiers, even if the four men weren't acting like comrades at the moment. John, however, didn't seem to realize this and that meant that he'd likely go all out on his four opponents. Looking at Chief Mendez, he wondered if the man realized the error in judgment one of his students had made and what it could potentially lead to. His teacher's face might as well have been carved from stone for all it gave away and he got the sense that calmness was the dominant emotion in his instructor at the moment.

His attention shifted though as the feelings of anger and aggression that had been circling his brain spiked to double their previous strength, causing him to turn his head back towards the right. His gaze arrived just in time to see one of the men leaning against the ropes with John in front of him but not moving at all. He tried to see if he could be more selective with whose emotions he was sensing by focusing on that one person but he felt nothing. Not anger or aggression or even pain. He… felt… NOTHING. He wasn't given time to contemplate this as the other three men moved to attack, with one of them wielding an iron bar. John sidestepped the blow by the armed man, grabbing the gripping hand before twisting it, crushing the bones in the process. A snap kick was then executed towards the second of the still standing men, catching him in the groin, generating a sharp cracking sounding consistent with a bone breaking. John then pulled the bar free from the crushed hand before swinging it at the former owner's neck, sending the man flying over the ropes of the ring.

All in all the fight had taken under ten seconds to finish and of all the opponents only one ODST looked like he was still alive.

The others weren't moving and he couldn't feel ANYTHING from them.

The emotions of anger and aggression he'd been feeling had vanished leaving him with just his own emotions to deal with.

Those were pretty strong at the moment even though he had them contained for the most part thanks to his training.

"At ease, number one-one-seven," Chief Mendez barked, causing John to drop the iron bar.

Mendez strode towards the right and, like they'd been invisible up until then, the sergeant who'd suggested they enter it noticed them or, more precisely, the man noticed the Chief.

"Chief Mendez, sir!" the sergeant exclaimed, snapping off a crisp salute. "What are you—"

The dots seemed to connect inside the surprised man's head as he looked at John, then at him before returning his gaze to Mendez.

"Medics are on their way. There are two intel officers waiting for you in Ops," Mendez said with complete seriousness and professionalism. "They'll debrief you and I suggest you report to them immediately."

"Yes sir!" the Sergeant said performing another salute before almost running from the gym.

With that done Mendez walked over to John and said, "Your workout is over for today. You too, zero-six-nine."

A part of him wanted to point out that he hadn't even had a workout but, considering what had just happened, what he personally had experienced, he didn't think he could do a proper workout for hours. As John turned and walked in his direction with Chief Mendez, medics entered the room with stretchers and proceeded to examine the four ODSTs in order to give priority to the most seriously wounded. He could've told them that only the one with what he suspected was a shattered pelvis needed help but his body just fell into step with John and Mendez as they all left the gym.

"Permission to speak, sir?" John asked, looking up at their instructor.

Mendez nodded.

"Were those men part of a mission?" John asked, sounding uncertain about what he'd done. "Were they targets or teammates?"

"You engaged and neutralized a threat," Mendez replied promptly and without hesitation. "That action seems to have answered your question, Squad Leader."

"I followed the chain of command," John said, his brow wrinkled in thought. "The sergeant told me to fight. I was threatened and in immediate danger. But they were still UNSC Special Forces. Fellow soldiers."

"Not every mission has simple objectives or comes to a logical conclusion," Mendez said with a lowered voice. "Your priorities are to follow the orders in your chain of command and then to preserve your life as well as the lives of your team. Is that clear?"

"Sir, yes sir," John said only momentarily looking back at the doors that led to the gym.

"What about you, zero-six-nine?" Mendez asked as he looked at him. "Do you understand?"

"Yes sir. It's just…" he said trying to put what he was thinking and feeling into words.

"Just what?" Mendez asked looking for clarification even as John looked on.

"Those men were UNSC ODST. I saw their tattoos and their moves were like the ODSTs that trained us," he replied, finally managing to sort out his mind. "I might not know why they wanted to fight John but I don't believe lethal force was required. It would have been enough just to render them unconscious or physically incapable of continuing the fight."

"In this case you're right," Mendez said with a nod that caused John to snap his eyes towards his instructor. "It brings up the reason I stopped you from helping one-one-seven. Both of you have been told that the augmentations you've received have made you faster, stronger and smarter than you were before. Those are just words, though, and they don't have the same impact as actions. After this incident you now both have an idea of what your bodies are now capable of and they're only going to get better until your body finishes maturing. That's why it's going to be important for the both of you, for all the SPARTAN IIs, to train to fully understand what your bodies are capable of so you can ensure complete control over your actions. Precision is a key component in everything a soldier does because, if they're not precise, the mission could be put at risk along with his allies. Understand?"

"Yes sir!" both he and John replied at the same time stopping to fire of crisp salutes.

It made sense now.

Everything the Chief had done since he'd stopped him from interfering in the fight. While a part of him would've still preferred the three dead ODSTs had lived, he conceded that their deaths were not without meaning. Seeing what John had been able to do and remembering the sparring sessions with the instructors prior to the augmentations, he could see the leap forward all their bodies had undergone. Right then and there he resolved to begin discovering his new physical limitations so he could begin devising control exercises for his body. He would need to access any records of their previous training sessions so he could get exact figures of their previous bests so they could match the feel of their movements to what needed to be done. After all, what felt like him giving his all now might wind up being six times more than it'd been prior to the augmentations. Currently he could not rely on how his body felt to judge how much power or speed he was putting into an attack.

He needed to relearn everything all over again.

They all did.

And he would help them by being the first to get his body and mind back into proper sync.

Well… maybe second to get everything back under control.

John always did tend to be first when it came to the physical training.


	4. Surprises good and bad

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the copyrighted materials contained herein. They are the rightful property of their creators and/or associated companies. I make no profit from this whatsoever and I have no intention of changing that at any point in the future. I write because it's fun and because there are those who enjoy reading my work. Therefore I would greatly appreciate it if no legal action were taken against me. I can guarantee that you won't get even a fifth of your legal fees back from whatever you manage to sue me for.

 _ **Classified Shuttle Landing Pad**_

 _ **Reach**_

 _ **Doctor Katherine Halsey's POV**_

 _Be it ever so humble…!_ she thought as the shuttle she'd been riding in from orbit finally touched down.

True, she never really considered Reach to be home but it was where she was most needed and where her current Program was based. For a little over two months, though, she had been on Earth attending meetings with the upper echelon of O.N.I. brass discussing the SPARTAN II Program and its future. It had been a tiresome eight weeks, with every little detail being examined in far too much detail, making her wonder why this couldn't have been done over encrypted communications channels. Even though she'd wanted to be present for the funeral of the deceased subjects, she knew why she hadn't been there. Due to the nature of the Program and the fact that the Insurrectionists had been showing greater and greater evidence of advanced technology, it was felt that it'd be too risky to discuss O.N.I.'s solution to the problem via conference call. If the 'Innies', as many of the O.N.I. members she spoke to called the rebel factions, caught wind of her Program, it would deprive them of the element of surprise. That was something her superiors seemed to very much want to avoid.

Judging from the expressions on some of their faces, she wouldn't be surprised if they insisted later on that cameras be installed on her Mjolnir armor so they could see the looks of shock and fear on their enemies' faces.

Nevertheless she had done her job and briefed them on all relevant facts concerning the subjects, their training and what information she'd been able to gather about their recovery from their augmentations prior to leaving Reach. The deaths, the subjects who'd survived the upgrades but could not continue alongside the others, she felt the weight of every last one of them despite her efforts to remain emotionally detached. In front of O.N.I.'s movers and shakers, though, she kept herself looking as professional and sometimes as cold as she needed to be to prevent them from using her guilt as a reason to assign someone new to replace her.

That didn't stop one man from pointing out how… disappointing… it was that so few of the subjects survived the augmentation process. The man went on to point out how inefficient it would be to continue with the Program if half the recruits they conscripted would wind up dead or disabled. She, of course, had defended her Program, stating that the possibility of fatalities during the augmentation process had been made clear at the very beginning. She also pointed out that now that they had real time data on how the bodies of the subjects reacted to the procedures, they could make adjustments that in her mind would aid in the reduction of future fatalities. The man had pounced on the word 'reduction' and voiced how it wasn't as good as 'elimination', sounding impatient for the whole Program to be perfected. Fortunately the man slipped up when things delved into scientific specifics, allowing her to convey in laymen terms how science could not be rushed and that doing so could set things back more than if they were allowed to proceed at their own pace.

She only learned from one of her O.N.I. supporters after that particular meeting that the man who'd opposed her but that she did not know was one Colonel James Ackerson. Apparently he'd been both recently promoted and assigned to several important positions within the Office of Naval Intelligence, with quite a bit of ambition under the proverbial hood. Scuttlebutt was that his short term goal was to get appointed to the UNSC Security Committee, placing the man in a position to help run the UNSC Defense Force. If the man succeeded it would give him greater authority over her SPARTANs as well as her for as long as she chose to remain with the Program she created. After the discussion she'd reviewed how Ackerson had behaved in order to ascertain his threat potential and what if any action she should take to negate his efforts.

Fortunately his lack of scientific acumen made him easy to outmaneuver on that front but the man had shown some skill at twisting the facts to make others see his point of view. She'd done what she could in every meeting onward to correct his 'errors' and discredit his efforts at manipulation but in the end all she'd done was keep the majority from jumping the fence. By the time the last meeting was over, the majority of the group assembled to grill her on the progress of the SPARTAN II Program had decided to wait and see. They'd conveyed indirectly that they would delay their decision about the Program's future until they saw her subjects in the field on a mission. That, in fact, was why she'd be asking Chief Mendez to update her on her SPARTANS' acclimation to their augmentations. She needed to know which of them were closest to being ready for official field work because, according to O.N.I., there was already a potential mission ready for activation.

Getting out of the shuttle, she was pleased to see the man she needed to speak to waiting for her in an unarmed Warthog, since it would save time in the long run.

"So how was Earth?" Mendez asked from his position in the driver's seat.

"Same as it was the last time I was there," she replied as she got into the passenger seat before the vehicle's engine started.

"That bad huh?" he said, implying that he'd had his own sour encounters with the O.N.I. brass in the past.

"They're on the fence for the most part," she explained as they drove along the road but not toward the barracks or training grounds. "They want to see how our SPARTANs do on a real mission before they make any decisions. How many of them are ready for deployment?"

"Funny you should ask that," he replied as they left the base itself and went off in a specific direction. "As you probably know Reach was first colonized for its rich titanium deposits. There are mines in these mountains thousands of meters deep and currently the UNSC uses them for storage."

"I presume you do not have my SPARTANs taking inventory today, Chief?" she asked, making it clear she would be quite annoyed if that were indeed the case.

"No, ma'am. We just needed the privacy," he replied as they reached the entrance to one of the mine tunnels and drove in.

As they drove deeper and deeper into the mine, she had to wonder why privacy would be required at this juncture. She knew for a fact that regular perimeter patrols were done at the base that the subjects had been trained at and no one on the base had been assigned there without a thorough background check that went beyond paranoid. While it was true that not every person was cleared to know the same amount of information about the Program, it was unlikely that they'd be able to leak anything to unauthorized parties.

"Do you remember the Navy's first experiments with powered exoskeletons?" Mendez asked out of the blue.

"I'm not sure I see the connection between this place, my SPARTANs and the exoskeleton projects, but I'll play along a bit further," she replied as they reached the end of their descent. "Yes, I know all about the Mark I prototypes. We had to scrap the concept and redesign battle armor from the ground up for the MJOLNIR project. The Mark Is consumed enormous energy. Either they had to be plugged into a generator or use inefficient broadcast power. Neither of which is practical on a battlefield."

Mendez said nothing after pulling into a parking spot before getting out and waiting for her to do the same.

"They used the units that weren't scrapped as dock loaders to move heavy equipment," she said before her mind caught on a possibility. "Or might they have been dumped in a place like this?"

"There are dozens of suits here," Mendez said before leading her further into the storage facility.

"You haven't put MY SPARTANs in some of those antiques?" she asked, her mind already full of ways it'd negatively impact their training if this had been done.

"No. Their trainers are using them for their own safety," he replied as vaguely humanoid objects entered her field of vision. "When the SPARTANs recovered from microgravity therapy they were eager to get back to their routine. However we experienced some… difficulties. Their first day back three of my trainers were accidentally killed during hand-to-hand combat exercises."

"Then they are faster and stronger than we anticipated?" she asked with a raised eyebrow of interest.

While she had designed and recommended the augmentations, she had not been able to definitively establish where the upper limits of their abilities would be. It would certainly be well above what an ordinary soldier would be capable of but just how far above had been vague at best.

"That would be understating the situation," Mendez replied as they arrived at the humanoid objects revealed now to be damaged Mark I exoskeletons. "After the three trainers were killed I immediately tried to gauge their abilities through the use of inanimate objects and any testing machines I could get a hold of. The results made it clear that having any more trainers spar with them like normal would be pointless, so I acquired some Mark Is and had the trainers put them on for hand-to-hand combat training. This is the result."

Looking at the suit hanging from thick chains, she began to examine it with an analytical eye as she took in the numerous signs of damage. Shattered visor, numerous dents the size of feet or fists, scuff marks that suggested skidding along concrete for a few seconds and tears that made her think that one of the subjects had been trying to pry the exoskeleton off the trainer. Give her knowledge of the Mark Is design specs, what she was seeing did strongly support the position that her SPARTANs had indeed become significantly more powerful than she'd originally projected.

"You made some modifications," the said as she found a few deviations from the original designs.

"At squad leader one-one-seven's request," Mendez explained as she continued to catalogue the modifications. "He felt his squad and the other SPARTANs weren't be challenged enough."

"Not challenged?!" she exclaimed in surprise at the statement that she knew was not an exaggeration since John was always precise with his assessment of a situation.

"Would you like to see your SPARTANs in action?" Mendez asked, looking as though he anticipated quite the reaction out of her.

"Yes, please," she replied, with it being clear he need not have asked her in the first place.

With that he led her deeper into the mine until they reached a large cavern outfitted to be along the same vein as the obstacle courses and environment simulations topside. Lights were scattered on the walls, overhead a hundred meters up on the ceiling as well as on the floor, but they did little to rid the training ground of the darkness scattered about.

"This way, please," Mendez said, gesturing to a small structure to the side.

Inside was an array of monitors displaying images from various angles of the mock battlefield, with a few labeled 'motion', 'infrared', 'doppler' and 'radar'. It came as something of a surprise to her when, with the push of a button, the sensation of being lifted off the ground came over her, making her realize that the structure had elevation capabilities. It didn't last long, only until the structure was twenty meters above ground, but it was then that a panel above the monitors slid aside to reveal a window from which she could see the entire training environment.

"Lights," Mendez said into a microphone, causing the ones she hadn't seen earlier to light up.

What she saw made her wonder just what the man had been asking her SPARTANs to do. In the center of the training area stood a concrete bunker and atop it stood three men in the Mark I power armor, weapons at the ready. Six more stood evenly spaced around the perimeter to protect the red banner that was planted in the middle of the first three trainers.

It was clear what form this exercise was going to take.

"Capture the flag?" she asked, giving away nothing of her opinion. "Past all of that heavy armor?"

"Yes. The trainers in those exoskeletons can run at thirty-two kph, lift two tons and have a thirty-millimeter minigun mounted on self-targeting armatures. Naturally they're using stun rounds but they're also equipped with the latest motion sensors and IR scopes," Mendez replied as the men in question prepared for an assault. "Needless to say their armor is impervious to standard light weapons. It would take two or three platoons of conventional Marines to take that bunker."

Indeed, given those statistics, conventional forces would be hard pressed to overcome them and seize the enemy bunker. However based on what had and had not been said by Mendez, she got the impression that even the Mark Is were not enough to give her SPARTANs trouble.

"Start the drill." Mendez said into the microphone.

Thus she waited, making sure to keep an eye on all the cameras while glancing out the window to see what could be seen from her present vantage point. Sixty seconds went by without any sign of her creations and at one hundred and twenty seconds she could keep silent no longer.

"Where are the SPARTANs?" she asked while not turning away from the monitors or the window.

"They're already here," Mendez replied, not elaborating one bit.

It was then that she caught a glimpse of a motion in the dark, a shadow against shadows, and a familiar silhouette.

"Kelly?" she asked, momentarily forgetting to call the young woman by her number.

"Unit four to all units," came the voice of one of the trainers. "Got one right here! Kelly. The fast one."

The man was not exaggerating as the young woman was proving to be capable of moving quicker than the armored soldier could keep up with, even in the Mark I. While she couldn't see everything clearly, what she could see definitely indicated that zero-eight-seven was indeed much quicker than her research had initially projected they'd be after receiving their augmentations.

"She's moving fast, heading seven-niner-" the trainer said before being abruptly cut off by one of Kelly's feet suddenly finding its way to his armored chest.

 _Incredible,_ she thought since her eyes had barely registered the transition between flight and attack.

Reinforcements for the downed trainer arrived shortly but from above so did some for Kelly. From above a man free-rappelled down from the girders and gantries and soon the newcomer landed behind one of the newly arrived guards, making not a sound according to the camera microphones. Two punches to the trainer's armor, hard enough to dent the heavy metal plates, then a sweep to the lower legs and another adversary was down on the ground. A moment later, though, the new arrival did something she hadn't been expecting by attaching his rappelling line to the defeated trainer. A moment later the recovering soldier shot up into the darkness with a yelp of surprise, causing those reinforcements that hadn't been looking in his direction to turn their heads. They opened fire on the surprise arrival but she soon realize that this was a mistake as two forms came down from above, obviously having used the tied up trainer as a counterweight.

Dropping down from what must have been a rather lengthy rope the latest two SPARTANs landed behind the ones that had brought their weapons to bear on the first surprise arrival. With just as much ease they dispatched the two trainers before melting into the shadows, leaving the remaining five trainers to regroup around the flag.

It didn't help them.

One by one they were picked off by the four SPARTANs in the room until there were only two left, both of whom had decided to go back to back in order to prevent any more sneak attacks. All this did was made them an easier target; with incredible speed a single SPARTAN snuck past the pan field of vision each trainer had to close to within striking distance. A series of quick slashes later and one of the guard's exosuit erupted in a fountain of hydraulic fluid before the man collapsed under his armor's weight.

When the last guard turned to deal the with sole visible SPARTAN she exclaimed, "He's at point blank range! Even stun rounds can kill at that distance!"

Mendez, however, remained unconcerned and she soon found out why.

With reflexes and speed that even after what she'd seen she hadn't been expecting, the SPARTAN sidestepped the shots, making them clearly miss. With equally quick movement the weapon was grabbed and then twisted, causing the screech of stressed metal to fill the air as it was torn to pieces. Then, with a simple palm strike, the last of the trainers was knocked clear of the flag's location, allowing the SPARTAN to pull it out of the ground, thus completing the exercise.

She could safely say she was both astonished as well as impressed as she watched the other three SPARTANs emerge from the shadows unscathed and looking like they could do it all over again easily.

"I've seen enough," she said, having come to a decision about what to do next. "Have one-one-seven pick a squad of his best. Five or six at most."

"Ma'am? For what purpose, if I may ask?" Mendez said, sounding curious about her request.

"I need them out of this hole and combat ready by oh-four-hundred," she explained as she used the information she had to construct likely scenarios. "The time for playing games is over."

"They're as ready for that as I can make them," Mendez said, not showing approval or disapproval at the turn of events. "Though there is one thing I think you should see."

Curious about what else Chief Mendez had to show her, she watched as he operated the console below the monitors, no doubt calling up the footage he wanted her to see. It didn't take long and after a brief countdown she was once more shown the mock environment but this time instead of the trainers defending the flag, it was SPARTANs. Joyce-zero-seven-zero, Alex-zero-six-nine and Daisy-zero-two-three were arrayed around the flag, with all three of them ready to act. They were armed with XBR55 Battle Rifles, with stun rounds only most likely, and it didn't take long before the fighting started as the trainers, marines that had been selected for the Program, began their assault to take the flag.

Not surprisingly the efforts by the wearers of the Mark I were quickly brought to a complete stop as her SPARTANs fired their weapons with expert precision and solid tactics. As the fighting continued, though, she noticed that Daisy's fighting was… off… somehow. For the past eight years she had diligently reviewed the physical and mental training of the subjects, either with Déjà or Chief Mendez. As such she'd been able to see them grow as fighters and gain an understanding of their individual fighting styles. While it was true that they'd had the same trainers and been put through the same exercises, they were still individuals with minds of their own. It was those individual minds that determined how they'd use the teachings in any given situation. As such she could tell that Daisy seemed… distracted during the fight, but her thorough training ensured that her body knew how to react even if her mind was slow to register her surroundings.

 _It looks like the curtain might be rising sooner than expected,_ she thought as she recalled a concern Mendez had voiced during their meetings prior to the augmentation procedures.

While most of the SPARTAN subjects had eventually resigned themselves to their assigned purpose and others had embraced it from the beginning, she'd anticipated from the beginning that there'd be malcontents sooner or later. Jai and Adriana had made numerous escape attempts, with some coming very close to succeeding, but her talk with the young man had proven enough to quell his desire to leave. However neither she nor Mendez believed the attempts to flee would end there. As the difficulty of the training increased over the years, both of them had been confident that those with the weakest resolve would begin to consider such thoughts as well. If any of those survived the augmentation procedure, they'd both known that it could lead to resolve strong enough to cause a few to break free.

Daisy-zero-two-three had been among those they'd suspected might gain enough confidence and motivation to make an escape attempt.

The combination of the unforgiving training of the last eight years added onto the trauma of the augmentation phase would be enough to make any young mind desire to run away from it. However the last time she'd checked in Mendez hadn't found any evidence to support the idea that the young woman was planning to escape. No missing supplies, no map of the surrounding area or any suspicious goings on either at the landing pad or the Warthog garage. However, after seeing the previous exercise and watching the one before her, it was evident that she would have to have base security intensify their searches for 'contraband' and 'espionage'. With the Program at the current stage, she couldn't risk living evidence escaping her grasp under any circumstances. The higher ups at O.N.I. had made it clear from the beginning that the SPARTANs would be a black ops strike force with every measure to be taken to keep knowledge of them from falling into unauthorized hands. Unauthorized, of course, meant civilians as well as members of the UNSC that had not been approved by the O.N.I. brass to know about the Program.

She harbored no illusions about the ethics of what she'd done or what she'd be asking the subjects to do. She knew that if such an unscientific thing as heaven actually existed, she would likely never go there for what she'd done, instead heading to the other place. Indeed she was pretty sure that anyone who worked for O.N.I. for more than a year would wind up there when they died, so at least she'd be in familiar company. Nevertheless, she had no interest in being placed on trial for doing what needed to be done, regardless of the ethical elements involved. They lived in a world of greys, not black and white, leaving it up to each individual to choose just how far towards the darker shades they wanted to go.

She'd decided a long time ago to go as close to the darker shades as required in order to achieve her objectives, even if it meant becoming something of a pariah to the rest of the human race.

Turning her attention back to the recorded session, she was just in time to see the final three trainers employing a more thoughtful strategy rather than simply a frontal assault. Instead of meeting her SPARTANs head on, they were instead trying to create a blind spot so one of their numbers could successfully land a hit. They did this by unleashing a barrage of fire that would command the complete attention of the subjects while another circled around to the other side in order to strike. It wasn't a poor strategy, even taking into consideration the augmentations, but it relied heavily on her subjects remaining clueless to the truth of the tactic for as long as possible.

That bought the trainer a minute at best.

It would take most of that time for the man to circle around without drawing attention to himself, leaving less than twenty seconds to take aim before firing. Not an impossible task and one that could be within the reach of one handpicked to train her SPARTANs could very well pull off. It was halfway through, though, before the single armor clad instructor had finished circling his target, when something happened in the recording that did not match how she'd expected things to unfold. With almost no pause in his efforts Alex-zero-six-nine shifted his aim a full one hundred degrees to the left and fired, catching the sneaking instructor the moment the man was in between the cover provided by the fake buildings. All shots hit dead center, causing the man to fall to the ground as his armor locked up, simulating a successful fatal strike. After becoming satisfied that the target was down, zero-six-nine resumed his previous position, adding his firepower to that of his teammates to deal with the remaining two instructors.

To the duo's credit they didn't stop fighting after their best shot at winning went down in flames but that only delayed their defeat rather than prevent it.

However, even though she paid some attention to the recording, the majority of her thoughts were focused on replaying Alex's actions to defeat the best hope of the instructors opposing him.

"Has their sense of hearing improved along with their eyesight?" she asked, believing that it was a possibility given that Alex hadn't been looking in the direction of the sneaking man before turning to fire.

It was also possible that one of the two laying down suppression fire looked in the direction of his comrade, tipping Alex off as to what was going on.

"Not significantly. After watching the exercise I immediately put the team through a series of tests specifically designed to test the range and acuteness of their sense of hearing," Mendez replied after turning off the monitors and triggering the structure's descent. "While they scored well in determining the direction the source of the sound was coming from, the range of how far away the footsteps could be heard didn't appreciably change. When added to the sound of gunfire, I don't see how he could've heard the man circling around."

"If he didn't hear the instructor moving or see him then how did he know where the man was or even when to turn and fire?" she asked, pointing out the key question given the current facts.

"I asked him the same question in private afterwards and his answer was that he 'felt' something was off and followed that feeling to the instructor in time to fire," he replied, sounding a little skeptical of the explanation. "I pressed him for a while for specifics but didn't get much out of him, so I decided to let the topic rest until you got back."

"Any theories?" she asked, appreciating that the man had been so considerate.

"Nothing concrete. At best nothing more than a few rumors me and a few friends tossed about between missions years ago," he replied shrugging with a expressionless face.

"Oh? And what rumors were those?" she asked, idly curious about what rumors Mendez had once thought worth talking about.

"The usual: O.N.I. collecting anyone and everyone that hinted at possessing psychic potential and trying to turn them into a black ops unit," he replied, sounding like he found the whole idea ridiculous now. "McCoy even had a list of deaths he said were proof that the rumors were true."

Outwardly she rolled her eyes as she'd be expected to in response to such a rumor but internally she reviewed what she'd seen with the possibility of psychic abilities. It certainly would explain how Alex had been able to 'feel' the presence of the sneaking instructor, as well as time his shot to match the precise moment when his target was exposed. However in all the years she'd worked with O.N.I. and in all the files she'd read after acquiring the necessary clearance, she'd never once come across even circumstantial proof that such abilities actually existed. It was true that if such things were possible for the human race, the Office of Naval Intelligence would definitely be interested in utilizing such people for their activities, but she was confident that she'd know if such people existed.

Still, despite her best efforts, she could come up with no other satisfactory explanation for Alex's actions and so she decided she'd examine the anomaly further.

"Schedule a solo training session for zero-six-nine tomorrow afternoon here," she ordered, her mind formulating a battery of tests. "Have the instructors prepare themselves for stealth movement and appropriate protection for multiple direct hits with stun rounds. I'll supervise the session myself."

A nod was all she got from Chief Mendez and it was enough. After spending eight years with each other, they'd come to understand how the other worked and how the other reacted under certain situations. She knew he knew that she wanted to quantify this strange new development and the only way to do that was to test the hell out of it until they gathered all the necessary information.

She had a feeling that this could very well be just the tip of the iceberg.

 _ **A Few Days Later**_

 _ **Underground Training Room**_

 _ **Alex-069's POV**_

BAM! BAM! BAM!

"Exercise over," Doctor Halsey said via the training floor's speaker system. "You can remove the blindfold, zero-six-nine."

Obeying the order he reached up with one hand and pulled off the blindfold he'd been wearing for the exercise. For the last few days Halsey had been putting him through a series of exercises with the intent of determining the limits and versatility of his new ability. She hadn't said anything about what she thought it was but he understood the need to fully understand it. Looking, he was satisfied in seeing that he'd successfully hit all three trainers with the stun rounds from his M6D magnum sidearm. While he hadn't hit precisely where he'd wanted to, if this had been a real life situation he still would've injured the targets enough to eliminate their threat to him or his team. He was confident that with more practice he'd be able to hit with more precision on a consistent basis.

Holstering his sidearm, he waited for the Doctor to approach and give him her formal evaluation of his performance, but as he waited he considered his current situation.

While he had not been overly chatty about it, he had discussed his new ability with Joy to get her take on it and confirm that she in fact didn't have it as well. From what they'd been able to determine in their discussions he was apparently the only SPARTAN II that could sense the emotions of others. This was odd and made him wonder why he was the anomaly out of the entire group. Had something gone wrong during the augmentation procedures? Was it some sort of freak mutation? Whatever the case, they'd both decided that it was an ability that could prove itself invaluable on missions so he'd immediately done what he could to master it. He wasn't a scientist, though, so his made up experiments hadn't been very precise but they had given him an edge on knowing when an attack was coming based on the 'feelings' coming from the one about to attack. Add to that a general area of where the hostile was located and he'd been able to neutralize several of the trainers attempting to outmaneuver his team using stealth.

It wasn't until Doctor Halsey got involved, though, that the experiments had gained more structure with a clearly defined objective.

At the moment he felt he had a good grasp of his ability and its uses, so it would only require a little more work to incorporate it into the tactics Chief Mendez had taught him.

Another thing he needed to deal with, though, was Daisy and he wasn't looking forward to forcing that confrontation. Ever since he'd first realized that he possessed the ability to sense the emotions of others he'd been acutely aware of the ones bubbling inside of Daisy. The girl had always had an aura of discontent about her that spiked during their physical training sessions, but he'd made himself believe that it'd go away once she got used to it all. After all, he didn't like getting kicked around by the trainers in the beginning or how hard Mendez pushed them during their exercises, but as his body got used to the level of exertion his dislike decreased daily. For her, though, it was like every exercise and every lesson only served to remind her of what had been stolen from her. Every lesson in hand-to-hand combat caused her to think 'I would not have had to learn this back home with my family' and every class with Déjà sparked the thought 'I should not be learning this until I'm in high school almost a decade from now'.

In the end it all came down to one word: choice.

The trainers and Déjà never really let them choose to give up or to walk away from what they were trying to teach. If you tried to do so you were punished until you gave in and learned what they wanted you to learn like the rest of them. When a few of them had declared that they wanted to return home to their mom and dad, they were told that that was impossible. No real stories were cooked up and always they were told that they were needed in order to protect Earth and all of the associated colonies. He and Joy had planned quite a few escape plans of their own but in the end had never enacted even one of them.

Why?

Because if they were being told the truth then their friends, the sisters and Reverend Mommy were in danger. If they were in danger then they needed to get stronger so that they could protect the people they cared about and this Program was the best place to get strong. When he'd learned last year of the fate of the luxury liner 'National Holiday' above Reach, though, he finally had a name as well as an emblem to put to the threat to those he cared for.

They were called Insurrectionists and chose a scarlet clenched fist as their symbol.

From there he had done his best to convince the others that they were needed not as just another person in the crowd but as the superhuman soldiers the SPARTAN II Program was turning them into. According to the information Joy had managed to acquire through both open and covert methods, the insurrection had been going on for three decades straight. If regular humans, be they marines or ODST, couldn't bring the fight to an end during that amount of time, then clearly something MORE was needed. Either a new piece of tech, a better weapon or a new breed of soldier capable of surpassing even the ODST elite.

That pretty much sounded like the SPARTAN II Program to him.

Most of the others who'd had doubts had listened to him and agreed that they were where they needed to be but some had still worn looks of disagreement and discontent.

Daisy had been one of them.

He had tried several times to get her to open up but all she'd done was state that he'd made it clear where his loyalties were and that they had nothing else to talk about. After the last time they'd spoken he'd decided to give her a few days to cool off while he attempted to devise an alternate means of resolving her issues.

Halsey's tests, however, hadn't left him much time to think about his plans, so he'd likely need a few more days before taking action.

Hearing the sound of footsteps approaching, he looked towards it to see Doctor Halsey approaching with a COM pad in hand. She appeared to be rather pleased and the emotions he could sense from her confirmed this, so he took it to mean that she had good news to share.

"Good news, ma'am?" he asked, looking for verbal confirmation.

"Indeed it is, zero-six-nine," Halsey replied as she brought her COM pad up to look at. "I can now say unequivocally that you are the first recorded human empath in history. The tests and the results make this undeniable."

"What exactly does it mean to be an empath?" he asked, wanting further clarification of his new ability.

"Well, there are a variety of sources, mostly from popular fiction over the last six centuries, but the basic definition is that an empath is a person capable of sensing the emotions of other life forms," she replied, taking on a more professorial tone. "In some cases a person with this ability can also replicate the emotions, moods and temperaments of others, making them feel whatever they want. Some supposedly could even detect emotional imprints left on an environment by another person, such as being able to sense fear coming from an empty street as plainly as they could see the street itself. While we haven't tested for these other abilities, we have confirmed your ability to sense emotions and accurately determine their point of origin from a considerable distance."

"Do you think I will gain further new abilities in the future?" he asked, wanting to know what to expect so that he could plan for it.

"Difficult to say," the replied while working on her COM pad. "In all of recorded human history there has been no one with mental abilities that could be proven, so we really have no precedent to work with. However, just as you are like to get stronger, faster and smarter as time passes due to the fact that your body is still growing, I would hazard a guess to say it is possible."

A prospect that was both interesting and intimidating.

He could already see how his current empathic ability could help him in the field and, if he did indeed acquire more abilities as time went on, then he would be able to do more to accomplish the mission as well as protect his team. What intimidated him, though, was that he was entering uncharted waters with these developments, with no idea about how it would all turn out. Would they emerge at a rate he could handle or would one of them just burst forth without any warning? If the latter turned out to be the case, then it could be quite dangerous for him to go on any mission given the potential for mental disorientation. If the former turned out to be how things occurred, then he would have to be mindful of his mind's development and decline mission assignments for medical reasons.

"I hope that I can count on your support if your guess turns out to be correct, Doctor Halsey," he said formally as he looked to the woman responsible for making him who he was today.

"It would be my pleasure, Alex," Halsey said with emotions that confirmed that she was quite interested in helping him develop his mental abilities.

While still somewhat intimidating, the concern was lessened knowing that he would have one of the most brilliant, if not THE most brilliant, scientist in the UNSC backing him up.

 _ **An Office on a Secret Base on Reach**_

 _ **Doctor Katherine Halsey's POV**_

She'd forgotten how invigorating entering into a new field of study could be.

While there was the occasional surprise when investigating her own fields of expertise, they were temporary since they were often just an unexpected footnote rather than a new chapter or book. This? This was completely unknown, even if it had been speculated upon by popular fiction over the centuries. To be the first scientist to both witness and study the phenomena had her mind abuzz with future experiments and scans as it thought up ways to map out the precise nature of the ability along with its limitations. Fortunately most of the hardware she'd need to do so was already located on base or could be accessed elsewhere without drawing too much unwanted attention from her 'rivals' in O.N.I. After all, the SPARTAN IIs were also uncharted territory to a degree since there'd never been super soldiers of their sort before, so she could simply tell those who asked that she was doing follow up scans to ensure there were no unforeseen complications. She'd have to keep the type of scans and tests within the vein of the enhancements to the brains of the subjects but she believed that would be informative enough. Empathy would only naturally have a corresponding manifestation in Alex's brain and that could easily be picked up with scans meant to verify increased reflexes, intelligence and memory.

After that, though, she would have to rely on the times that Alex returned to Reach between missions to ascertain the progress of his new 'gift' and determine if any others had manifested. She had told him the truth when she said that she believed it was possible other abilities, like telepathy, perhaps, might manifest as his body continued to mature. She knew that his current power was likely the result of one of the black box genes she'd detected becoming active but she doubted that ALL of them were responsible for it. It was far more likely that a handful, at most, were responsible and that meant the remainder might give rise to another ability down the road. She just hoped that when the new ability or abilities emerged that the event didn't happen during a mission, since, depending on the nature of the manifestation, it could put Alex in mortal danger.

 _If that turns out to be the case then the best course of action would be to ensure his teammates are skilled enough to adapt to his incapacitation and protect him,_ she thought as her mind went down another avenue. _Joyce-zero-seven-zero would be adequate enough with her long range marksmanship to pick off her Insurrectionist counterparts. Daisy would also be suitable, given her skill with assault tactics and weaponry._

Indeed, Alex's team had proven themselves to be quite deadly in battle with skills that complemented each other quite well. They also had something that no other SPARTAN II team had and it wasn't Alex's empathic ability. Joyce had proven herself to have a sharp mind with an interest for tech, computer hacking and, oddly enough, the relatively obscure field of xenoarchaeology. Ever since man had first set out into the stars they'd kept their eyes open for any sign of intelligent life forms and any time something was found, specialists were sent in to study the find. To her knowledge nothing of note had been found thus far but that didn't necessarily mean that nothing had been found since she suspected that the higher ups at O.N.I. would have immediately classified such a find. Still, since there'd been no new 'technological breakthroughs' since the invention of the slipspace drive that she couldn't attribute to purely human thinking, she could only presume that those finds were limited. When she'd asked Joyce why she was so interested, the SPARTAN had simply said that she was certain they'd encounter aliens one day and that it'd be smart to learn as much as they could beforehand. By examining and studying xenoarchaeological finds, they'd be able to figure out how aliens thought while also learning to communicate with them.

She'd pointed out that as a SPARTAN she likely wouldn't get too many opportunities to look at any alien ruins but Joyce had countered by saying they didn't know what the future held and, depending on the find, those sent to study it might need a SPARTAN guard detail to keep them safe.

She had to concede that both possibilities were feasible.

In the end she decided that, while she could theoretically increase the size of Alex's team in order to ensure his protection, doing so might raise a few eyebrows. Instead she would entrust the team leader's safety to his teammates and only risk attracting attention if they proved to be insufficient. She would not allow Alex to be destroyed if she could do something to prevent it. His genes, his new ability, could be the beginning of the next stage of human evolution and if so she had an obligation to the human race to study it in preparation for those that would follow. It'd likely take time but, if her SPARTANs performed as she believed they would and succeeded in putting an end to the insurrection, it might earn her enough clout with the O.N.I. brass to requisition a few choice pieces of scanning equipment for a 'side project'. They'd want to know what its purpose was but, with their minds aflutter with all the different ways the SPARTAN IIs could further their various agendas, it was doubtful that they'd look too closely at whatever reason she gave them. Then all she'd need to do was schedule Alex's tests to coincide with his return visits to Reach and she'd have a way to monitor his progress and document any new developments.

"Doctor Halsey," Déjà said before her holographic avatar appeared above the pad built into her desk. "We have a situation requiring your immediate intervention."

"What is it, Déjà?" she asked, only minimally feeling that this might be a waste of time.

"Five SPARTAN IIs have taken hostages," Déjà replied, sounding concerned. "Based on their statements and the direction they are currently moving in, I believe it is their intention to leave the Program and return home."

"Order security to surround them but do nothing that might endanger the lives of the hostages," she said as she got out of her chair and put her lab coat on. "I'm on my way."

While a little disappointed that her more optimistic side's prediction hadn't come true, this turn of events wasn't as much of a surprise as one might think. There had always been malcontents among the subjects she'd gathered, some escape attempts made, but up until now those who sought to flee had never tried taking hostages. Their efforts had been focused on sneaking past the various guards and security cameras, then making it over the fence before running for the nearest town or city. Fortunately the 'talk' she had with those escapees about an injection that would allow them to go home but would wipe their memories of every friend they'd made since joining the Program had ended most efforts. However she'd always believed that, after the augmentations, those once silenced might be motivated into trying once more to escape, especially once they realized the guards couldn't stop them. From what she'd learned from Chief Mendez, all of the SPARTANs that'd survived the augmentation and were combat capable had been run through exercises to acclimate to their new limitations. If what she'd seen in the mine training room was typical of what the SPARTAN IIs could do now, she had doubts that any soldier on the base could stop them if they wanted to leave.

Now… now it was clear that the more rebellious factions amongst her SPARTANs had realized the physical advantage they had over their keepers and had chosen to take action.

Walking towards the barracks where the subjects had been last time she'd checked, it didn't take her long to find the source of the problem due to the commotion being made by people on both sides of the confrontation. The remaining guards and base personnel were trying to convince the SPARTANs trying to escape that they wouldn't get far or that they would be perfectly willing to let them go AFTER they released the hostages. On the other side were the SPARTANs trying to leave, telling all who opposed them to back away or they'd kill the hostages. She had to shake her head in disappointment with regards to the threat since it made it clear to her that the potential escapees didn't realize fully who they were dealing with. The entire Program was under O.N.I. jurisdiction and the organization would have no problem losing five ordinary soldiers if it meant keeping five top secret super soldiers in custody. For the moment her order not to take action that'd endanger the hostages was probably the only reason the captives hadn't been removed from the equation already.

Turning a corner, she navigated her way through the base personnel who'd been attempting and failing to negotiate a resolution to the matter.

Time to show them how it was done.

Once she reached the front of the group she saw who the malcontents were and felt something akin to concern when she saw Daisy-zero-two-three at the forefront, a M6C Magnum Sidearm pointed at the head of one of her lab subordinates. The others attempting to escape were likewise making sure their weapons could be seen and were in position to deliver a fatal shot to their hostages if it became necessary. Daisy-zero-two-three, Joseph-one-two-two, Ralph-one zero three, Jason-one-two-one and Jack-zero-four-five made up the group of rebels trying to escape but, from what she could see, they didn't have anything other than their pistols to fight with. It was probably all they'd been able to get ahold of but it still put them at a disadvantage, especially if one of the more reckless people at O.N.I. decided that a termination order was better than trying to take the escapees alive.

"What do you think you're doing, twenty-three?" she asked in an emotionless tone of voice.

"We're leaving and you can't stop us!" Daisy replied, pressing the muzzle of her pistol a little harder into her hostage.

"She's right! We're sick of your training!" Ralph added while keeping his hostage between himself and the direction hostile action was likely to come from.

"We're not going to be your toys anymore!" Daisy said, asserting her position as the leader of the rebellion.

 _Such is the price of limiting their learning to fields applicable to their mandated function,_ she thought as she took note of Twenty-Three's choice of words. _They might know how to fight as soldiers and function soldiers but their concept of how to act their age is still stuck at the level of a child._

"You're not toys, Twenty-Three. I told you at the beginning what we would be helping you to become: protectors," she said, not letting herself get swept up in the emotions of the moment. "In order to be the protectors humanity needs, you to be you needed training and… improvements. I know they were harsh but they were necessary, Twenty-Three."

"STOP CALLING ME THAT!" Daisy yelled in an outraged tone. "I have a NAME, a REAL NAME, and you can't take that from me! My name is Daisy Langstrom!"

Her eyes narrowed with mild irritation at that statement as she recalled the reason why they'd stripped the children of their surnames from the beginning. It'd been meant to cut their ties to their former homes, to their families, in the hopes that it'd make the transition easier, but apparently some had clung to their full names with unbreakable resolve.

With a little help from Alex she suspected, since she knew her newest curiosity had made efforts over the years to celebrate the birthday of every SPARTAN he could by raiding the mess hall kitchen for supplies. Efforts had been made to stop this but, when no noticeable drop in training progress had been detected after a year, she'd decided to let them have their special moments. Now she was beginning to think she should've taken more of a hardline against such activities, even if a part of her figured this situation still would've occurred anyways.

"Whether I call you by, your former name or a number, the end result is the same," she said, intentionally being cold in order to take the band aid method of dispatching the girl's hopes of returning to her former life. "O.N.I. has invested eight years of resources and time into this Program. Even if you manage to escape this base and somehow make it off Reach, do you really think they won't come after you? Save all of us some unnecessary trouble and just accept that you can't go home."

"Fuck you!" Daisy exclaimed, apparently having picked up some profanity from one of the trainers or guards. "We're going and anyone who tries to get in our way is going to regret it!"

"Very well. Everyone stand down," she ordered, letting her gaze pass over everyone else in the room. "Pass the word onto everyone else on base that might get in their way."

"But Doctor—" one of the security guards began to say before she silenced him with a frigid glare.

"Is your hearing deficient? Those are my orders," she said, making it clear that pushing the matter further would be a mistake.

There was a bit of a pause but eventually every armed non-SPARTAN holstered their weapons and those not armed either stepped away or cleared a path for the five hostage takers who wanted to leave.

"What's your game?" Joseph-one-two-two asked suspiciously even as he and his allies moved towards the open route.

"I've decided to let you indulge yourselves in the idea that you might actually get your happy ending," she replied, not letting her true intentions slip through. "You all no doubt think that all you have to do is get back 'home' and everything will be back the way you vaguely remember it was before your conscription. That you can just take your families, people you haven't seen in eight years, and disappear someplace where O.N.I. can't find you. If you won't believe me when I say it is pointless then I have no choice but to let you find out for yourselves."

Daisy looked at her with fury, no doubt trying to identify whether her words were a bluff or the truth, but then gave her allies a look before the entire group began to leave down the prepared path. Less than a minute later they were out of sight, leaving those that had been present for the beginning of their escape attempt to wonder what was going to happen next.

"This is bad. REALLY bad," one of the guards said, sounding like he expected trouble from those above their pay grade.

"Relax. We trained them, so we know how they're going to proceed. Once they acquire transportation or are far enough from the base they'll knock out the hostages before proceeding to the next stage in their plan: getting home." She was not worried in the least and it showed. "Fortunately we know where their homes are and have access to transportation that will let us get there ahead of them. Without their human shields and with the element of surprise, recapturing them won't be difficult."

No, the difficult part would be dealing with the psychological blow they would receive once they reached their former homes.

She truly hoped that all five were recaptured before then, if only to spare them unnecessary pain and her additional guilt.

 _ **A Short While Later**_

 _ **Mine Training Facility**_

 _ **Xander's POV**_

"ALEX!" came Joy's voice from the entrance to the mine training field.

With his new ability he could sense her fear, her concern and her sadness clearly, so without hesitation he broke off his training session with the men stationed there and sprinted for the entrance. As he'd expected his teammate and best friend was there waiting for him but the expression on her face immediately made it an unbreakable fact that he would either hurt the person who caused it or do whatever he had to in order to dispel it.

"What's wrong?" he asked, keeping his cool since losing it wouldn't help things at all.

"It's Daisy!" Joy replied, sounding very concerned with bits of fear mixed in. "She, Joseph, Ralph, Jason and Jack took hostages and escaped the base. They're trying to go home."

Damn.

He'd known that those five had been up to something but he'd been hoping that they'd stick around until after their first mission. It'd been his hope that, once they saw the threat the Insurrectionists posed firsthand, they'd realize how much the galaxy needed them. Apparently he'd overestimated their restraint or underestimated their desire to return to their parents and because of his mistake things had gotten a great deal more complicated.

"How are Doctor Halsey and Chief Mendez reacting?" he asked, wanting to know what action their superiors were taking.

"Halsey was the one that let them go," Joy replied, sounding a little angry at that action. "Chief Mendez is organizing some of the guards to pursue them."

Thinking on the answer, he tried to produce an accurate picture of what was going on in his mind but after two minutes he couldn't help but feel there was something he wasn't seeing. Why would Halsey let them go? He might not know all the details but he did know that the SPARTAN II Program was a top secret project that would cause massive fallout if news of it reached the public. With all that he'd learned about the Program and the enemies they'd been made to defeat, he'd made peace with it all and had committed himself to doing his job. That did not mean that he was oblivious to the violation of ethics the Program represented or how the citizens of the UNSC, both in the inner colonies as well as the outer ones, would react to it. Most would stick to their initial emotional reaction of outrage, insisting that all those involved be brought to justice that hopefully would come in the form of either execution or spending the rest of their lives in prison. Some would insist a full investigation be done so that they could have the facts before making any big decisions on what should be done and what should be left alone.

O.N.I. wouldn't let that happen.

That meant that they'd put all available assets on search and capture but, given how well the trainers had fared against his new brothers and sisters, even with the aid of the Mark I armor, he didn't see it going well. That would likely lead capture to be changed to terminate, since a well-placed shot with the element of surprise on its side would kill a SPARTAN as easily as it would a normal human. From their point of view, losing five but keeping the remainder a secret would be acceptable as long as additional steps were taken to ensure the obedience of the remaining SPARTANs. That didn't sit right with him at all because, for all the trouble she was causing, Daisy was still a teammate and part of his surrogate family. He wasn't about to let her or the others get killed just so O.N.I. could keep the Program a secret.

With only a quick hand signal to Joy to follow him he immediately left the training ground with a clear destination in mind: Doctor Halsey's office. His intent was equally clear in that he intended to request permission to go with the pursuit teams in the hopes that he could talk down the AWOL SPARTANs into returning. After all, if they agreed to come back there'd be no reason to sanction them and the secret that was the Program would remain so, satisfying everyone. How confident was he that he could convince Daisy and the others to return, given how motivated they likely were to never set foot on the base again? He had a few ideas but he was banking on his ability to sense the emotions of others to accurately measure how they were feeling so he could pick his words more strategically.

With a bit of luck they would agree to return and never try to escape again.

When he and Joy arrived at Doctor Halsey's office he knocked twice on the door before waiting for permission to enter. It was something he'd done ever since being brought to Reach, to the point of it being almost unconscious in the way he did it. However this time was different from all the others because, instead of the permission coming within seconds, he got nothing but silence.

"Doctor Halsey?" he said after knocking twice again, only to get no reply at all from the other side of the door.

He did, however, get a response from the building's intercom.

"Doctor Halsey is not currently in her office," Déjà declared with her voice coming through the intercom speaker. "She has departed for the UNSC Commonwealth currently in orbit."

"Did she say why she was going there?" he asked, hoping that Halsey hadn't ordered the dumb A.I. to keep such information to herself.

"No," Déjà replied, offering no elaboration.

For a moment he considered pressing the matter and trying to get the A.I. to tell him more but decided against it at the last moment. If he asked too many questions it might cause some suspicion to fall on him and convince base security to keep a close eye on him. Not that they probably weren't keeping a close eye on all the SPARTANs still on base, just in case a few more decided to bolt while Chief Mendez and Doctor Halsey were away, but suspicious behavior would only make things worse.

"Okay. Let me know when she gets back," he said before walking away, with Joy following close behind with one of her 'I look fine but I'm actually a little confused' looks.

He didn't tell her anything but rather kept a casual walking pace while mentally navigating to the one spot where the two of them could speak privately. The security measures for the base were impressive, they had to be in order to keep the SPARTAN II Program a secret, but even the best systems had blind spots if you knew where to look. In the early days, before he'd become convinced that they needed to stay with the Program, he'd spent his time trying to find places where he and Joy could plan in secret. It had been a stressful process to locate it but they'd eventually found a place where the cameras couldn't see and the microphones couldn't hear a thing. That was where he was heading right now because he had an objective in mind that'd depend quite a bit on surprise in order to achieve it.

Once they arrived and they both made sure that no other base personnel were in the area, he turned to her with a look that instantly caused a wary look to appear on her face.

"I need to get to Daisy and the others before O.N.I. does," he said, basically laying out his intentions without any build up.

"You really think they'll try to hurt her?" Joy asked, not sounding thrilled at the prospect.

"I think they'll try to KILL her and the others if that's what it takes to keep their secret Program a secret," he replied, not mincing words due to the seriousness of the matter.

"After all the money and resources devoted to the SPARTAN II Program, it wouldn't make sense for them to kill Daisy and the others," she said, not quite willing to believe that the Office of Naval Intelligence would be willing to take such action. "It'd be like baking the most expensive cake known to mankind only to throw it in the trash. All that effort… they wouldn't just throw it away. They'd at least eat a slice first."

He had to smile at that because, even with all their military training and the years that'd passed since they'd left the orphanage, Joy still had a thing for cooking. True, over the years he couldn't find the ingredients he needed to bake a real cake or even a cupcake to help one of their new family celebrate his or her birthday. Fortunately the sisters had taught Joy a few ingredient substitution tricks that'd helped them make due, or at least ensure that the end result was tasty enough to eat.

Didn't mean that the toilet wasn't used quite eagerly later, though.

"I don't need to be a lawyer to know that they've broken quite a few laws with this program. If the truth got out… it wouldn't be pretty," he said, not liking the possibilities his imagination was coming up with. "To keep their secrets secret, I think they'd do just about anything."

Joy thought the matter over for a few minutes and he didn't interrupt her because, if he was going to get to Daisy ahead of her potential executioners, he'd need help. In the end, though, Joy did what she always did whenever he was about to dive into a reckless and risky venture: back him up to the best of her ability.

"What do you need me to do?" she asked with resolve that every SPARTAN exuded once they'd been given a mission to accomplish by Chief Mendez or Doctor Halsey.

"I need help getting a ride and I need a distraction," he replied, his tone all business as he prepared himself for what was going to happen next.

 _ **Joy-070's POV**_

 _Why do I let him talk me into things like this?_ she thought as she made her way back to Doctor Halsey's office at a casual but quick pace.

The answer came about as quickly as the question: she let him talk her into insane stunts like this because his reasons were usually good and because there'd be less of a mess if she helped than if he acted on his own. As she turned the corner to see the door to Halsey's office, she put on her best poker face, knowing that eyes, both human and A.I., were on her through the security cameras. Once she was in front of the door she typed in the access code the doctor had given her for the times she wanted to access some books found only in the office.

"What are you doing, Joyce zero-seven-zero?" Déjà asked through the speakers of the intercom system.

"Just thought I'd get some reading done," she replied as the door opened, admitting her into the room. "There's a book in Doctor Halsey's office that I haven't finished yet."

This wasn't a lie per se, since there was indeed a book inside that she had been reading and had not finished. The only lie was that the book was not her goal, but rather the office owner's computer console because it was there that the information she needed was located. Keeping her movements as casual and innocent as possible, she went over to the bookcase near the desk and plucked the book from it before sitting down in Halsey's chair.

Now came the hard part.

With all the speed, precision and expertise she possessed she turned on the computer and immediately got to work locking Déjà out of the system. She wouldn't get far at all if the artificial intelligence got in her way, so it was definitely something she had to do first. It was hard since, by their very nature, A.I.s could 'think' faster and act faster than any organic being, but fortunately humans had an advantage over their artificial counterparts. They often thought in chaotic and illogical ways that mystified the mechanical minds of beings like Déjà, leaving them a few steps behind. Using that to her advantage she began laying out programs and inquiries meant to distract and confuse the A.I. while she also pieced together official looking orders that would get Xander off Reach and to Sargasso. He was already working on his end of the plan to 'borrow' some ODST armor in order to conceal his true age and identity. Thanks to the enhancements they'd received, her friend was physically big enough to pass for a member of the ODST without arousing too much suspicion. She just needed to create and send the necessary paperwork to induce the captain of the vessel Xander would be taking into taking the SPARTAN II where he wanted to go.

"Joyce zero-seven-zero, stop what you are doing immediately," Déjà ordered with a distracted air that might have been her imagination. "You are not authorized to access those documents or use Doctor Halsey's computer in such a manner."

"Then why don't you stop me?" she asked, not pausing even for a moment in her efforts. "I'm actually kind of curious to see how far I'd get, plus it'd be good practice."

"What do you mean practice?" Déjà asked before manifesting her holographic form above a nearby emitter.

"Well, A.I.s are pretty common in UNSC space, so it's possible that the Insurrectionists might've gotten a hold of a few. That means that on a mission to stop them my team might be forced to fight one," she said even as she reached the one third point in fabricating Xander's orders. "Sure, we could just blow up the hardware, but maybe there'll be a mission where we'll need to take the hardware intact and contain the A.I. rather than destroy it."

"Current intel on Insurrectionist activity does corroborate your theory regarding their use of A.I.s in their operations," Déjà said after a moment of simulated contemplation. "Very well, Joyce zero-seven zero I will permit this contest of cyber-warfare. However if you show signs of exceeding the logical parameters of such a contest, I will lock you out of the system and alert security as well as Doctor Halsey."

"I'd expect nothing less from you," she said even as she continued with her true purpose while distracting Déjà with incursion attempts in another sector of the base's network.

It was long and laborious work, with a few times bringing her a little too close to being found out by the artificial intelligence, but she managed to line everything up just right. With a single command the fabricated orders that'd get Alex where he needed to go was sent and she got a confirmation beep that told her it succeeded in leaving the local network. To hedge things even further in Alex's favor, she kept up her little sparring match with Déjà for another hour, using what resources she had to create ghost readings of SPARTAN IIs escaping the base. They weren't perfect but they were not intended to be. The intent was to make sure Déjà could identify them as mirages while making it look like she was doing her best to make them look like the real deal. This would up the odds of her teacher dismissing Alex's actual departure as another ghost, buying him more time to get off Reach and into slip space.

It was almost two hours later before she lost the fight against the A.I. but it was a close thing and implied that, with more practice, she stood a decent enough chance of defeating similar intelligences in the future.

"An admirable first attempt, Joyce zero-seven-zero," Déjà said as she powered down Halsey's computer. "Attempting to gain an advantage over an A.I. by creating multiple fronts to defend is a sound strategy. It may be worth exploring to construct autonomous attack and defense programs in preparation for future efforts. Even with the enhancements you have received it is unlikely that you will be able to manually control each front with sufficient skill to overcome the processing power of an enemy A.I."

"A good idea," she said honestly as she contemplated the basics of such programs. "See you around, Déjà."

Picking up the book she hadn't finished reading yet, she left the office for her preferred reading spot. She knew that her actions would be suspicious and definitely reported to the Chief as well as Doctor Halsey, but by then both would likely know the truth. All that'd be left would be an appropriate punishment and she knew that Alex would be willing to take whatever they dealt out and she was no different. They had to get Daisy back, alive and well, and this was the best way of doing it that wouldn't run the risk of the troubled young lady getting sanctioned via an O.N.I. sniper round through the skull.

It was as she was about to reach the door leading outside that she found someone waiting for her that she hadn't been anticipating.

John one-one-seven.

"Nice day, isn't it?" she said, trying to make it sound like she hadn't just been up to something that violated several UNSC regulations.

"Yep. Not a cloud in the sky," John said with a nod with an odd look on his face. "They're too busy chasing a flock of geese to the south. Should be an hour before the wind shifts sending them back this way."

 _Does he… does he KNOW?_ she thought as she tried to contemplate the meaning of one-one-seven's words.

A firm nod before walking away pretty much confirmed it.

 _Should've known that John would pick up on Alex's operation,_ she thought, keeping her face neutral. _If I'm interpreting what he said right, it sounds like he managed to distract base security, sending them to the southern area of the property. That'll mean even fewer people to get wise to a SPARTAN II getting off base disguised as an ODST._

It was a welcome addition to the plan but if things took a turn for the worst, she'd keep John's involvement to herself and do what she could to keep the people in the tribunal from suspecting anyone else was involved besides her and Alex. John was the best of them and, if her suspicions were right, then Doctor Halsey was grooming him to become the overall leader of the SPARTAN IIs, so it wouldn't do to cause him unnecessary trouble by putting a black mark like this on his record.

 _I doubt they'll lock us away for this,_ she thought as her eyes fell upon the tree she liked to read under. _At worst they'll probably put us in solitary for a month before deploying us with the others._

They were supposed to be the UNSCs trump card against the Insurrectionists, after all, so keeping two or more of them benched would only last for so long before some mission came up that needed a SPARTAN's touch.

 _Still, it'd probably be best not to push our luck,_ she thought as she looked skyward to where she imagined Alex's ride was waiting. _Luck never lasts forever and tends to give out when you least expect it to._

 _ **A Few Hours Later**_

 _ **Xander's POV**_

"Your orders have been authenticated, lieutenant," the soldier in charge of departures from the UNSC spaceport said as he looked away from his console's computer screen. "Proceed to landing pad six. A pelican is waiting to take you up."

A nod was all he gave before turning away from the desk and began walking towards the specified landing pad.

 _Thank you Joyce!_ he thought as he kept his movements crisp and professional.

So far his plan was working out just as he'd hoped it would but he'd stay alert until he was standing next to Daisy on Sargasso. It wasn't that he doubted Joy's work but he figured it only be a matter of time before his absence was noticed on the base and they began to look for him. None of his brothers and sisters would give him up but all it'd take would be a review of security footage and the computer network for suspicious activity to give them some leads to follow. If Joyce followed his advice, the orders she fabricated would include strict instructions to maintain radio silence until he was successfully dropped off at his destination. He already had a few plausible explanations for this if the crew of the ship he'd be riding in inquired, but he'd be keeping it simple since making something too complicated increased the odds of things going awry.

If things took a turn for the worse and his fake orders were found out, he would be forced to take drastic action in order to make sure he got to where he needed to go.

He prayed it wouldn't come to that.

Seeing the Pelican on the pad, he quickened his pace and walked up the boarding ramp before approaching the cockpit.

"Let's get airborne, pilot," he said, looking at the lady pilot with her helmet's visor covering her eyes.

"Aye-aye, sir," the private said as she began launch procedures. "This is Pelican Beta Two-O-Four lifting off from pad six."

"Roger, Beta Two-O-Four," the man working in the control tower said over the comm-system. "You are cleared for launch."

With that the Pelican rose into the sky and, once it'd cleared the spaceport's tallest, it began its climb towards the ship that rested in orbit. It was as the Pelican cleared the upper atmosphere that he managed to lay eyes on the ship that'd take him to Sargasso. He'd left it to Joy to choose a ship since sniffing out a likely candidate prior to his leaving the base would've only raised suspicions, so he didn't know the name of the ship. However as he got closer he managed to identify it as a modified Phoenix-class support ship with the words 'UNSC Spirit of Fire' painted on the side. If he recalled correctly, this class of ship was usually used for colony building, transporting both colonists as well as equipment to worlds suitable for colonization. This one, however, had clearly been modified to serve as a warship with the addition of a Magnetic Accelerator Cannon, enlarged storage bays and destroyer level thrust assemblies.

 _It's a bit more than I wanted, a prowler would've been nice, but beggars can't be choosers,_ he thought as the Pelican got closer and closer to its destination.

As the Pelican entered the hanger bay of the ship he could see a mix of marines and crewmen milling about but what caught his attention was a twenty-something marine waiting near a vacant landing area. Beta Two-O-Four was heading towards it, so he presumed that the marine was his escort to the bridge where he'd likely speak with the captain before they made their way out of the system. It was standard protocol as well as the first real test of his ability to convince others that he really was an ODST marine. Fooling the man down at the spaceport wasn't much of an achievement since there was generally a reason why someone got assigned desk duty in the navy. Making experienced military personnel who'd been in the field for some time believe his story would be decidedly more difficult.

A few minutes later the Pelican touched down and lowered its boarding ramp, revealing his marine escort, who promptly saluted him, making him wonder just what priority level Joyce had assigned his 'orders'.

"Lieutenant," the marine said as he lowered his hand. "Captain Cutter awaits you on the bridge. I am to escort you there."

"Lead the way," he said before turning halfway back towards the Pelican. "Thanks for the ride, Private…"

"Rawley, sir. Call sign Foe Hammer," Private Rawley said, answering his unspoken question. "As for the ride, I was just doing my job."

"Thanks just the same," he said before turning away from the Pelican.

With that he was led through the numerous corridors and lifts, with the occasional crewmember or marine giving him a once over before going back to whatever they'd been doing. It was only natural, though, for an outsider to be scrutinized, especially in light of some out of nowhere orders, but he was confident that they wouldn't be a problem until more suspicious evidence presented itself. He'd just have to keep his statements short and to the point while avoiding any unnecessary contact with the crew. By doing so he'd minimize the chances of saying or doing something that'd arouse suspicions and cause the captain to break radio silence in order to confirm the orders they'd been given with a living person.

It didn't take long for the two of them to reach the bridge with the holo-table in the center and, unless he was mistaken, the man standing behind the forward consoles was the captain. He might not know anything about the man but he figured treating the officer like he would any other superior would be enough. Watching the man turn around, he immediately straightened his posture and executed a perfect salute as was proper when greeting a superior officer.

"Welcome aboard, lieutenant," Cutter said, returning the salute adequately. "I'll admit I was a bit surprised when I received orders to transport you to Sargasso but the encryption as well as the command codes checked out. I don't suppose you'd care to elaborate on the mission beyond 'transport Lieutenant Smith to Sargasso with all available speed'?"

"I'm afraid I cannot, Captain Cutter," he replied politely yet also with resolve. "I have my orders just the same as you do and they do not permit me to divulge mission details."

He could see that this did not sit well with the man and, looking at matters from his perspective, he doubted very much that he'd appreciate being kept in the dark. Unless he dispelled this foul mood it could lead to discrete inquiries with the captain's sources in the UNSC and that would lead to his efforts being thwarted.

He had but one choice.

"However in the interest of cooperation I'll tell you what I can," he said, letting the difficulty in what he was about to do show. "Suffice it to say that an 'asset' has come across information that has caused them to go AWOL and head for Sargasso. My mission is to go to that planet, find the asset and convince the asset to return to the fold."

"Given the priority level of the orders, this asset can't be too important if all it warrants is a single Helljumper to be sent in pursuit," Cutter said, sounding dubious about what he was being told.

"I… have a history with the asset, sir," he said, feeling his grasp of the situation begin to slip away. "The higher ups believe I'll be able to reason with her. The only other solution is… decidedly more permanent and… ruthless."

This raised an eyebrow but it seemed to be enough to prompt the captain to shelve his concerns in favor of action.

"Then let's get underway," Captain Cutter said before turning to the helmsman. "Break orbit! Spin up the FTL drive and set course for Sargasso. Best speed!"

"Aye-aye, sir!" the helmsman said before putting action to words.

Looking out the forward windows even as the shutters slid into place, he took a moment to take in the view of Reach from orbit. It'd been a long time since he'd seen it and the last time he'd been far too young to fully appreciate it. To think that there were over a hundred worlds out there just like Reach and, as a member of the SPARTAN II program, it was now his duty to protect them all from whatever might threaten them. It was a huge burden but not one he would cast aside out of fear. Everything he'd heard had made it clear that the UNSC had done everything they could so far to bring the Insurrectionists to justice but they just weren't making enough progress. If lives were to be saved and destruction kept to a minimum, then it was up to him, along with the rest of the SPARTAN IIs, to rise to the occasion.

It was mere minutes later that he felt a slight jolt but it only lasted for a minute.

"Slip space jump completed," the ship's A.I. said before manifesting above the holo-table. "ETA to Sargasso three point four hours."

Not as quick as he'd hoped but he knew that there were limits to how fast a UNSC ship could travel even when pushing their engines to the limit. Without knowing when Daisy escaped the base or what method of travel she'd chosen to get to her home world, it was impossible to calculate where she was on her journey. He could only hope that her desire to stay under the radar forced her to stow away on a ship that either would take an indirect route to Sargasso, or was only half as fast as the Spirit of Fire. If she got home before he did, there was no telling how quickly things would go FUBAR, and if she got sanctioned by ONI…

 _NO! I will NOT let that happen!_ he thought with resolve stronger than the best warship armor.

Remembering all too well one of the Chief's lessons, he refused to even consider the possibility that he'd fail because if he did, he'd have sown the seeds of the possibility becoming a reality.

He'd make it.

There was no other option.


	5. Reconciliation and implementation

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 _ **The Planet Sargasso**_

 _ **Covert ONI Mobile Command Center**_

 _ **Doctor Halsey's POV**_

 _It shouldn't be long now,_ she thought as she continued to shift her gaze from one view screen to another as each of them monitored a predicted approach route. _Every ship that left Reach between the last time anyone saw Daisy to when I left has had their ETA to Sargasso calculated. The last one should be arriving in less than an hour._

All of the cameras were hooked up to a recognition program that had been fed zero-two-three's face as well as all of her physical measurements. She'd gone the extra mile because she knew that her SPARTANs had been trained to avoid conventional security systems and no doubt Daisy would do her best to keep her face concealed. With the extra data all they would have to do was calculate a possible destination for any candidates that popped up and whichever ones were headed to the home of Daisy's family would become the focus of her attention. She already had a Hornet VTOL on standby so she could get to the house before her troublesome SPARTAN could say anything classified or do anything rash. She had already received reports that two of the SPARTANs that'd been a part of the escape had committed suicide after encountering their clones. It was a terrible outcome and as such there were two snipers on standby ready to move to prime positions with a clear line of sight to Daisy's destination. One was armed with tranquilizer darts while the other had conventional rounds. If it looked like zero-two-three was going to try to kill herself the one with the tranquilizer rifle would fire with the maximum safe dosage for a SPARTAN II. If somehow Daisy was still able to move after being hit with the dart, the second sniper would target the limb holding the sidearm to render it temporarily unusable. The time in the medical wing of the base back on Reach would give zero-two-three time to reflect on the new information and hopefully come to an acceptable conclusion.

 _I hope that Joyce and Alex can talk some sense into their teammate,_ she thought as she continued to keep a sharp eye out for the subject. _I would hate to have to resort to more… extreme methods._

Nevertheless she had considered them since she knew that there would be those in O.N.I. who would suggest some of the more damaging solutions in order to break Daisy zero-two-three of any rebellious tendencies. It wouldn't matter if she protested that doing so would reduce her combat effectiveness. To THEM all that mattered was that the blonde SPARTAN would obey orders from then on.

They never considered how 'damaging' Daisy might affect the other SPARTANs.

Thanks to the efforts of Alex and Joyce, the SPARTAN IIs had all become more than mere comrades in arms. They'd become a family of brother's and sisters who cared about one another very deeply. Anyone who permanently injured a member of their family, be it physically or mentally, they would be labeled 'enemy' from that point forward. She'd like to think that they wouldn't forget their pride as soldiers, as SPARTANs, and get themselves into serious trouble, there had been some deviation from her intended mental conditioning program. Had they adhered to the original program, their reaction to severe actions by O.N.I. or the UNSC would merely be as frosty a mood as they could get away with while avoiding charges of military misconduct.

Since they had not, anything was possible.

"Doctor! We have a match!" one of the serviceman said from his station, causing her eyes to snap at his screen.

 _Foolish girl,_ she thought as she saw Daisy running down the sidewalk still in her base uniform. _She didn't even bother trying to disguise herself. Did she really think we wouldn't get here ahead of her?_

She had to shake her head at the SPARTAN's foolhardy mistake, making her wonder if zero-two-three had been so focused on seeing her family again that she'd ignored her training. It was a plausible explanation but one Daisy would have to be reprimanded for should she choose to rejoin the ranks of her brothers and sisters. A soldier needed to maintain perfect situational awareness and be clearheaded enough to choose the correct course of action no matter what distractions appeared. It was why she'd originally tried to sever their connections to their former lives. In all practicality none of her SPARTANs would be able to return to whom they'd been, to stand with their blood relations once more as family, and so she'd planned to crush those notions from the beginning. Would Daisy still have rebelled had she managed to successfully stop Alex and Joyce's efforts to preserve the pasts of their comrades? Or would it still have occurred regardless?

 _It can dealt with later,_ she said as she began to walk towards the door. _For now I must board the Hornet and get into position._ "Tell the Hornet pilot to prepare for launch," she ordered as she reached for the doorknob. "Inform the snipers not to move from their current positions until after the target begins to cross the bridge. They cannot risk early detection."

"Understood, Doctor Halsey," the serviceman said with a nod before he began to carry out his assigned tasks.

With that done she exited the room and began to navigate the hallways towards the location of the VTOL at a brisk pace. Based on the location stamp on the viewscreen, Daisy would reach her home in just under twenty minutes. She would need to be in position just before that if she was to have her little talk and reveal the reasoning behind the creation of the flash clones. It was her hope that, with a cold retelling of the facts, zero-two-three would have no choice but to accept that her only home was with her fellow SPARTANs now. It would be painful but it would also yield the best results.

It didn't take long to reach the Hornet and, once in the copilot's seat, she put the headset on her head before signaling the pilot to take off.

As they flew through the sky silently towards their destination she wondered how she would explain this when inevitably she was called before an O.N.I. review board. It wouldn't matter to them that all the escapees had either been captured or killed. No, they'd focus on the fact that she had been unable to prevent it in the first place. That was why she needed to construct an airtight chain of choices and reasons for why things happened the way they did so that the less rational board members wouldn't have a leg to stand on.

She would argue that aggressive denial of the subjects' desire to return home would only make that desire stronger while putting off their escape for a couple of months at best. By permitting their departure and then sending forces in pursuit, it would be possible to show the strength of those forces while allowing the few that made it to their homes to be hit with the horrible truth. The psychological effects of each outcome, capture or replacement, would be enough to break the desire for rebellion and escape, or remove the troublesome subjects altogether. She was sure that before being summoned she'd be able to find at least a few papers and thesis that supported her view of the situation as well as how she handled it.

So long as no sliver of information about the SPARTAN program got out to the public and containment was maintained, she would be able to survive the incident along with her creations.

Looking out of the windshield she saw that the pilot had made good time in getting to the target area but now they needed to conceal themselves just until Daisy laid eyes on her clone. It would be then that zero-two-three would be receptive to the cold, hard facts and more likely to accept that her only home now was with her fellow SPARTANs.

"Hide behind that outcropping," she ordered, pointing to an ideal hiding place.

"Aye-aye, ma'am," the pilot said before complying with his orders.

"Sniper One, Sniper Two, check in." she said through her headset.

"Sniper One on station," a man's voice said through the headset speakers.

"Sniper Two on station," a woman's voice said with the faint tinkle of metal in the background.

"Move to designated sniper nests," she ordered with no room for discussion. "Use directional microphone attachments to monitor target's activity in preparation to strike. Relay the audio to me so I may monitor as well."

"Sniper One acknowledges. Moving to sniper nest," the man said before breaking off communications.

The other sniper did likewise and so the waiting began for Daisy to cross the bridge and discover what had been done to preserve the secrecy of the program.

It didn't take long, her estimations of zero-two-three's travel time proving accurate, and so she spent the next few seconds reasoning out Daisy's thought processes at this point. Based on their discussion back on Reach, it'd become clear to her that, while she might have the knowledge to act like a professional soldier, the subject had chosen to give in to her immature impulses. Mendez had done what he could to suppress any civilian tendencies, to lock them in the mindset of a soldier, but thanks to Alex it hadn't been completely successful. For some the shortcomings were barely perceivable, like with John, but with Daisy it was obvious a refresher course was needed. No doubt now she was seeing her beloved home, treasured in her memories these long years, and pictured a happy as well as tear-filled reunion with her parents. However, when she got to about the halfway point on the bridge, zero-two-three would spot the lone figure tending to the garden of flowers. The SPARTAN would attempt to deduce who it was and would likely pause in her advance until the unknown was identified, giving the object of her scrutiny a chance to change position, allowing the face to become visible.

"Move out, pilot. Advance towards the bridge and begin scanning for any earpiece comms-devices on the bridge," she ordered, feeling that it was time to take the stage.

The pilot was competent enough to react promptly to orders and, looking down at the screen in front of her, she watched as the scan soon found Daisy's comm-piece.

Another foolish oversight on the SPARTAN's part since the piece of technology could have been used to track her. The only flaw to using such a method was that zero-two-three would've been made aware that she was being tracked due to the reaction the device would have to the tracking method. It was why she'd not permitted its use once the waiting began since it would've only driven the SPARTAN to ground, increasing the odds that her adversaries in ONI would take action.

She would NOT permit that to happen.

Establishing a connection with the wireless comm-piece, she prepared to say her piece.

"Notice any resemblance?" she asked and watched as Daisy reached for her comm-piece before looking in the direction of the VTOL. "The secrecy of the SPARTAN II program could not be jeopardized. The disappearance of seventy-six recruits for the program would've led to difficult questions. But if the children never vanished there would be no questions to ask, would there?"

She waited, letting Daisy work through the possible explanations, until she felt it was time to speak again.

"The clone lives a… life in your place," she said, hesitant to use the term considering what she knew laid ahead for the copy. "The life that WAS originally meant for you. Come back to the base, twenty-three. It is where you belong. It's home and your fellow SPARTANs are now your only family."

There.

She'd said it as plainly and as bluntly as she could without wasting words.

With any luck zero-two-three would have the wisdom to accept that she could never go home again and withdraw from the area to the nearest UNSC facility.

Still, to be sure, she changed to the frequency the snipers were on.

"Take aim at the target. If she attempts to self-terminate, STOP HER. She must be captured alive."

She waited for the acknowledgment of her order, waited a full ten seconds, but got nothing but silent air for her patience.

"Sniper One, Sniper Two, acknowledge," she commanded, hoping that the soldiers hadn't gone rogue due to unknown orders from another member of ONI.

Nothing.

Just more silence and this worried her.

She knew from reports that the other escapees were either captured or dead, so it was unlikely that one or more of them had accompanied Daisy to the planet. While not the cream of the crop, both snipers were skilled enough that a mere civilian would not be enough to keep them from their duty. The more she thought about it, the more she came to believe that they'd gone rogue due either to orders from someone above her in power or someone with deeper pockets. She cursed herself for not taking more precautions to prevent this sort of outcome!

"Ma'am! New contact on the bridge," the pilot said from his seat ahead of her. "Advancing towards the target."

Turning her gaze to the top of the bridge, she immediately spotted a lone figure in ODST armor advancing towards Daisy. Using the console in front of her, she directed the Hornet's exterior camera towards the new contact and zoomed in so that an attempt at identification could be made. A MA37 Assault rifle was on the ODST's back but she was puzzled by the unknown's actions. Surely, if her opponents in ONI had sent someone to interfere, they would've properly briefed the soldier on what he'd be facing. A standard issue assault rifle wielded by a Helljumper would hardly be up to the task of subduing or killing a SPARTAN II, given what needed to be done to ensure that the instructors would survive training sessions back on Reach.

Was this one meant to be a distraction while others lined up their shots?

Looking at Daisy, she could see that the wayward SPARTAN had noticed the new arrival and had immediately brought her M6D Pistol to bear on the potential threat. Watching as the ODST raised his empty hands in an effort to put Daisy at ease, she could tell even from this distance she could see that the SPARTAN was a little too agitated to make that possible. She couldn't hear what was being said due to her termination with the link to Daisy's comm-piece but it looked as though the ODST was trying to talk zero-two-three down. Too bad it would take something more significant than words to affect the state of mind of a SPARTAN in shock.

It was then that the ODST did something unexpected when he reached up to take off his helmet and revealed something that shocked her almost more than she could conceal.

It was Alex zero-six-nine!

"How the hell did he get here?" she whispered with a rhetoric inquiry as she worked to understand this change in the situation.

Amidst the shock and confusion within her mind, though, a part of her conceded that this could prove to be enough to convince Daisy to return peacefully to Reach.

 _ **Fifteen Minutes Earlier**_

 _ **Alex-069's POV**_

 _I have to hurry!_ he thought as he left the UNSC base that the Pelican had dropped him off at. _I refuse to be too late!_

It'd taken almost intolerably long for the Spirit of Fire to get to Sargasso but, once they had, he'd gone immediately to the Pelican launch bay. Fortunately for him there was one ready to go and so, with a brief exchange of words both with the pilot as well as with Captain Cutter, he'd soon found himself descending through the planet's atmosphere. All the way down he'd reviewed what he knew of Daisy's home and where it was located but it was only when he could clearly see the city as a whole that he realized that he'd overlooked something.

While Daisy had given a pretty good description of what her house looked like as well as the area around it, she'd told him nothing about how to get there from the UNSC base.

Immediately he began moving towards the civilian spaceport since he didn't think that Daisy would've stowed away aboard a military transport. She'd have gone civilian since the security would've been less both in terms of internal sensors as well as security patrols. With an objective in mind he began moving using what he'd seen through the cockpit of the pelican on the way down to move towards the civilian spaceport. He knew he was getting looks from the civilians as he passed, both from the pace at which he was running as well as the ODST gear, but he didn't have the time to slow down to more normal running speeds or do his best to stay out of sight. By his reckoning Daisy was either a few minutes behind him or a few minutes ahead of him and that meant that, if he wanted to save her from ONI sanction, he had no time to waste.

When he arrived he went inside and checked the list of arrivals from Reach, evaluating each one by what type of ship it was and when it'd departed. One by one he crossed possibilities off of the list until there were only two left. One was only touching down right then but the other had landed ten minutes ago and in his mind that meant that he was ten minutes behind Daisy. Utilizing the console he brought up a holo-image of the entire city, looking for anything that resembled the terrain Daisy had described, and whilethat only gave him a general area, it was better than the entire continent. Leaving the spaceport he followed the mental map he'd imprinted on the forefront of his mind to get to the most likely location of his teammate's home. He took the most direct route, the most expedient, since time was against him and he needed to make up what he'd lost. People, objects, they didn't register as what they were to him, but rather they registered as obstacles to be navigated around in whatever manner cost the least amount of time.

Once he entered the mental red circle he'd put on his mental map he began to look for any sign of Daisy's passage that would give him even a basic direction to go in.

He was on the edge of a park, a bubbling fountain a dozen feet away, with a variety of people going about their usual business. His memories of what it'd been like back on Arcadia might've been a bit faded but he could still recall what such places were like, as well as what he'd done there with Joy and the others. Striding forward, he looked at each of the people to determine if any of them would've been observant enough to both see and remember Daisy if she'd been through here.

An old man who seemed to be giving him quite the hairy eyeball seemed an ideal candidate so he made his way over to the edge of the fountain where the elder was sitting.

"Excuse me, sir, but has a young woman passed through here in the last twenty minutes?" he asked, being professional while also trying to make himself sound older than he was. "She'd be about three inches shorter than me, short blonde hair, blue eyes and would be dressed in a red and white bodysuit. It would only have been within the last twenty minutes."

"Why should I tell you anything? Ya fuckin' storm trooper!" the old man replied, sounding like he didn't like the UNSC or the ODST very much.

"Because the life of one of your fellow citizens is at risk and I could be the only one capable of keeping her alive," he said bluntly, hoping his honesty and resolve would make the old man change his mind.

The words did have an effect on the elderly gentleman, he could tell from the change in expression, but it didn't last long.

"More like you're the one that's gonna kill her," the elderly man growled before getting up off the edge of the fountain.

Without another look the old man walked off, leaving him with nothing but wasted time and no new intel on where he could find Daisy.

Looking around, he tried to find someone else when his eyes caught on something in the water of the fountain, causing him to sharply look down to see what it was. In an instant he recognized it as a dog tag identical to the one he had around his own neck. With speed honed through training he pulled it out of the water and, flipping it over to look at the other side, he confirmed the presence of his teammate's name as well as her military ID number.

 _She's been here,_ he thought, feeling encouraged by the confirmation that he was on the right trail.

However, while promising, this didn't tell him where she'd gone after tearing off her dog tag.

With a frown of annoyance he pulled at the neck of his ODST armor and shoved the tag beneath the collar of his bodysuit so he could give it back to her later. However the moment the metal touched his skin he was overcome with sensory input that he instantly recognized as being foreign. He saw two men in suits reaching for him from elevation… no, they were just taller than him. Echoes of fear and longing flowed through his mind but were quickly crushed underneath a boulder of anger. The scene shifted and he was looking down at the tag but it wasn't his hand holding them for they were too small. The hand then clenched around the tag before giving a hard yank to snap the chain before tossing the piece of metal into the fountain.

It was as the input began to fade, though, that he saw which direction Daisy had turned towards and, as his sensory information became his own once more, he knew where he had to go.

Breaking into a sprint he moved in the direction his teammate had settled her eyes on before he'd stopped seeing what she'd seen. Pushing himself to his upper limit of speed, he moved as quickly as he could with the shadowy fear of what'd happen to Daisy if he was too late, forcing him to work harder. As he crested a hill his eyes fell upon a small island with a house built on it connected to the mainland via a single bridge. A person was on that bridge, about halfway across, and to his right there was a Hornet VTOL approaching at a leisurely pace.

 _ONI,_ he thought as his fears began to creep out from the pit he'd tossed them in. _I've only got until after they issue their ultimatum to get to Daisy._

It was as he reached the bridge that he chose to slow to a walking pace, if only to keep himself from being classified as a hostile in the eyes of the Hornet crew. Their confusion over his arrival and appearance would buy him extra time so he could speak with his teammate. He got to within a little over fifteen feet of Daisy before she heard him, spun around and pointed her M6D Magnum at him.

"Stay away!" Daisy yelled with a look in her eyes that told him she was VERY volatile at the moment.

"I'm not here to hurt you, Daisy," he said as he raised his arms in the universal 'I mean you no harm' position. "I'm just here to talk."

"I don't believe you!" Daisy yelled, her anger spiking. "You just want to take me back there! I WON'T LET YOU!"

"I know you're upset, Daisy, but believe me when I say I'm just here to talk," he said as he began to move his hands towards his ODST helmet. "You can trust me."

Then, before she could shoot him, he pulled off his helmet letting her see his face.

"Alex?!" she asked, looking completely floored by presence. "What're you doing here?!"

"You took a field trip to see the folks," he replied, putting on his best lopsided smile. "Figured you might like some company."

"You're here with them!" she growled, having come to the less favorable conclusion.

"No. They have no idea I left Reach to find you," he said, shaking his head but remaining calm. "I figure I'm in for a MONTH of solitary once I get back one way or another."

"Why? Why'd you come here?" she asked, sounding less sure that her presumption of his motivations was correct.

"I told you: to talk," he replied before hooking his helmet onto the belt of the ODST uniform. "About what you plan on doing now, specifically. You do have a plan, right?"

"I…I don't…" she said, obviously trying to lay out some sort of idea but failing.

"I know. It's gonna be hard with that Hornet hovering close by, especially since you've just got that sidearm," he said, trying to lead her towards the truth rather than force her to see his point of view. "Still, we're SPARTANs. We've been trained to overcome worse odds."

From her expression he could tell that she was running through the scenarios, debating tactics and generally trying to come up with a plan that would get her what she wanted.

"Of course now that they know you're here I wouldn't be surprised if they arranged for all the spaceports on the continent to be locked down," he said conversationally even as he glanced at the Hornet for a moment. "They'll toss out some kind of excuse, of course, to keep anyone from thinking something's going on of course. Probably give orders to any UNSC ships in orbit to open fire on any ship trying to leave, or at least take out their engines. Still, if you found a place to hole up, you could try to outlast them. ONI can't lock down this continent forever without attracting unnecessary attention."

He saw her wince as her own mind came to similar conclusions and didn't like how they made her odds drop.

"Then again they'll probably send down ODST and ONI search teams to search the area for you. Try to pass it all off as being in response to a suspected Insurrectionist plot," he said, laying out the weaknesses in trying to outlast ONI and the UNSC. "They'll have some leeway with what they can do without ruffling some feathers but not too much. ONI will likely anticipate that you'll stay away from populated areas to minimize the odds of someone ratting you out, so a search won't take as much time as looking through the entire city would. Plus, if you take out any of the people involved in the search, you'll basically be sending up a signal flare letting them know where you are."

He could tell from her expression that he'd just painted her into a corner and desperation was beginning to rise within her.

"Then what… what can I do?" she asked, sounding like her spirit was shaking under the strain of the odds against her. "How can I get my life back?!"

For a moment he was hit with a sense of déjà vu, as though he'd heard similar words before, but it left as quickly as it came.

And THEN he dropped the hammer he hated having to drop.

"You can't." he said, feeling a pang in his heart as he spoke. "We're not who we used to be. Not in body. Not in mind. Time only flows in one direction so there's no going back to who we used to be."

"So I'm just supposed to ACCEPT IT! Just fall in line and be her TOY!?" Daisy asked, her anger rising to the forefront once more.

"We're not toys. We were NEVER toys," he said, not letting himself get sucked into her fury. "We're soldiers now. Soldiers trained to protect the people unable to protect themselves. We were conscripted to end the conflict with the Insurrectionists, to save the lives that'd be lost if the conflict drags out too long. I know you see what we've been through as a curse but, if you look at it from another point of view, you'll see it as a blessing."

"A BLESSING!? HOW THE HELL IS THIS A BLESSING?!" Daisy yelled, her defiance and anger surging.

"It's a blessing because we're now in a position to do the most good. The UNSC and ONI have been trying to stop the Insurrectionists for almost three decades without success. WE, all SPARTAN IIs, are now the best chance to end the conflict before it escalates further," he said with conviction and resolve. "There's been no real pattern to their attacks, Daisy. One UNSC target is as good as another in their minds. They might even target Sargasso, seeing as how there's a UNSC base here. That would put your parents at risk of being caught up in one of their bombings."

"You don't know that!" Daisy exclaimed, looking afraid for her mom and dad.

"You're right. I don't. But neither do you. That's the point," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "If we don't know where or when they're going to attack, then the only chance we have of protecting the ones we left behind is to take down the Insurrectionists as quickly as we can. WE are the only ones who can do that, Daisy. But it's going to take every last SPARTAN to pull it off. Including you."

He could see that she was fighting against his reasoning, her emotions trying to smother the logic of it all, but to his point of view all that was needed was one more thing to finally bring her back into the fold.

"We NEED you, Daisy. I need you," he said before holding out his right hand for her to take. "Come back to Reach. Come back to your family."

He waited for her to take his hand and was prepared to wait for as long as he needed to, but thankfully Daisy didn't take long to make her choice. With teary eyes she took his hand and, as the sobs started to affect her ability to stand up straight, he pulled her towards him, embracing her in a hug to convey his sympathy for what she was going through. It wasn't that he didn't know what she was going through, he wasn't made of ice, knowing that going home again was little more than a lofty dream. Still, he felt that as SPARTANs it was part of their job description to overcome the odds and make the impossible possible. So, while in the short term he would keep any word about retiring back to civilian status to himself, his long term plan was to rack up as many IOUs from powerful people as possible. It was his hope that, with enough of them, a deal could be struck with the people in charge to at least allow the SPARTAN IIs the option of retirement and at most the reclamation of their former lives.

If they had any sense of honor they'd realize the debt humanity owed their protectors and would feel an obligation to repay them.

"Um… hello?" a voice said that sounded like Daisy's but softer in tone. "Is she alright?"

He looked over Daisy's shoulder and saw a young woman who looked virtually identical save for a few cosmetic differences that could be explained with a different lifestyle. The twin was in a wheelchair, implying that she was paralyzed from the waist down or at least lacked the lower body strength to stand on her own two legs. The girl didn't seem afraid even though there were two armed strangers standing a couple of feet away.

"Not now. She will be, though, once I get her back home," he replied, not doing anything foolish like divulge facts that'd complicate things.

"Maybe… maybe this will help," the twin said, reaching into her pocket and pulled out a little bear keychain out of it.

"What makes you think that?" he asked as he saw Daisy look at it with emotion out of the corner of his eye.

"I've had it since I was a little girl. It's the most precious thing that I own," the twin replied, looking down at the item in her hand.

"Then why do you want to give it to my friend?" he asked, curious about why the girl would give up something so important to a stranger.

"I don't know. It just feels… right," the twin replied with a grin on her face. "When I look at her I remember a dream I've had off and on for as long as I can remember. I dream that I'm strong, stronger than anyone, just like I think your friend is. I believe that even if I'm too weak to help her that maybe this will give her a little bit more strength. The only strength I have to give."

He could sense through his empathic powers that she was being honest and that the dream she'd been having had a powerful emotional hold on her. Watching as Daisy reached out and took the little item, his teammate deeply appreciated the gesture. No doubt his teammate would keep it close to her and physically 'dissuade' anyone from trying to take it from her.

And if someone managed to destroy it, they'd know how big a mistake they'd just made before the end.

Maybe.

"Thank you," Daisy said, the item clutched to her chest as tears slid down her cheeks.

The twin nodded and then turned her wheelchair around, rolling back the way she came towards the house.

Taking the ODST helmet off his belt, he put it back on before opening a comm-channel that he hoped that the Hornet would pick up on.

"This is Sierra zero-six-nine," he said once he was sure the transmission wouldn't extend much past the Hornet. "Will return with Sierra zero-two-three to local UNSC spaceport for extraction. Over."

"Acknowledged, Sierra zero-six-nine," came a voice he hadn't been expecting to hear. "However I expect a THOROUGH debriefing when we meet face to face."

Doctor Halsey. Crud. He'd thought that it'd be some ONI agent, with Doctor Halsey waiting back at a central control room overseeing everything from relative safety.

 _Guess she prefers to be a little more on hand with certain things,_ he thought, guiding Daisy back along the bridge in the general direction of the UNSC's base. _Lucky me._

 _ **Reach High Command Complex**_

 _ **Doctor Katherine Halsey's POV**_

"They will see you now, Doctor Halsey," the nameless UNSC officer said from the door that led to the meeting room.

A polite nod was all she had the inclination for as she got off the seat she'd been sitting in for the last HOUR waiting to be summoned before an ONI council to review the escape of the five SPARTAN IIs. She already had a list of answers for the questions that she suspected they would ask, as well as a solid defense for the actions she took from the beginning right to the very end. Nevertheless, she expected that there'd be at least one hard ass that'd do their level best to make her appear completely incompetent and a threat to UNSC security. Fortunately she was no stranger to these types, having encountered them before, so unless the one she encountered in this meeting proved unusually cunning they wouldn't do much harm.

However, if they tried any more of the cliché methods for knocking her off her guard, she was going to show them that she could play mind games as well.

Walking through the door she almost rolled her eyes at the cliché, a semi-circle table with the lights strategically placed so that the faces of the council members couldn't be clearly seen. If they were so foolish to employ vocal distortion devices to further hide who they were, she really would roll her eyes regardless of how they'd take it.

She came to a stop at what'd be considered a respectful distance from the table and waited for them to speak since, in these cases, it was often best to let the enemy make the first move.

"Doctor Catherine Halsey. You have been called before this council regarding the incident in which five subjects of the SPARTAN II program successfully managed to escape Reach in an attempt to go home," the central council member said, sounding like most ranking officers did. "According to testimony by technicians who witnessed the event you permitted them to escape. Care to explain?"

"There have always been subjects who were… less than accepting of their new duties. However, up until the breakout in question, there had never been conclusive evidence indicating that one was about to occur," she replied, going with her prepared answer. "Knowing what I did of their abilities, I decided that direct opposition would lead to unnecessary damage, both to the subjects as well as the base. Instead I chose the more efficient solution: let them find out for themselves that that they couldn't go home again then take advantage of the shock to persuade them to return."

"Considering that you only managed to recover three of the five escapees, I'd say your solution was less than perfect," a woman to the left of the center of the table said, sounding a bit sarcastic.

"Considering that we would likely have lost four of them had we fought inside the base, along with who knows how many members of base security, I don't regret making my choice." she said, ignoring the woman's tone entirely.

"What I'd like to know is why you had such trouble finding them," a man two seats left of center asked, sounding like he questioned her intellect. "You knew they were running back home. Couldn't you have just gone ahead of them and taken them down?"

"Some of the families involved relocated after the acquisition of the subject. It was uncertain whether the subjects would anticipate that or simply return to the home they knew," she replied, a bit of frost in her tone. "Due to the classified nature of program I only had enough manpower to cover a set number of locations. We chose the ones that had the highest probability of success, however where chance is involved failure is always a possibility."

"Was your lack of manpower also the reason why another SPARTAN II left the base without authorization?" a man at the left end of the table asked, sounding more reasonable than the others.

"No. SPARTAN zero-six-nine was acting under my orders," she replied, giving away none of the falsehood of her words.

"Your orders?" the sarcastic woman asked, sounding borderline incredulous.

"Yes. SPARTAN zero-two-three was assigned as a member of zero-six-nine's team," she replied, as though the connections were painfully obvious. "I thought that the connection they shared could be useful in convincing her to return to the fold."

"Then why didn't you bring him with you when you left Reach?" the sarcastic woman asked, sounding like she thought she'd dealt a potent blow to her story.

"As always it was my intent to acquire the escaped subjects before they reached their homes so as to prevent contact with their families. To that end I intended to employ a prototype tracking device that could be keyed to a specific target's DNA," she replied, not sounding or looking worried in the least. "However it wasn't ready when I had to leave Reach so I asked zero-six-nine to bring it to me once it was ready. Unfortunately it wasn't ready soon enough to save the two who committed suicide."

"This sounds like quite the valuable piece of hardware. I trust that it will be mass produced now that it's been successfully field tested?" the center man asked, sounding genuinely impressed with the device.

"No," she replied, deciding to make the man pull out the details he wanted.

"What do you mean 'no'?" the sarcastic woman asked, sounding irritated at the denial.

"While the device proved successful in leading zero-six-nine to zero-two-three, it could only pick up traces of her DNA rather than her. Basically it could only find bread crumbs rather than the entire loaf," she replied, keeping frosty as she spoke. "Most likely a combination of electromagnetic interference and distance prevented the device from getting a solid lock on zero-two-three. As a result she almost made it to her home. Clearly the device requires further refinement and enhancing."

"I see," the center man said, sounding disappointed but not suspicious. "I am curious as to why he had to fabricate orders to take him to Sargasso and disguise himself as an ODST."

"The secrecy of the program required it. Zero-six-nine's appearance was not typical of a male his age and would have raised questions better left unasked," she explained, glad that this member of the Council could stay professional. "As for the fabricated orders, they were merely meant to act as a smokescreen, to keep anyone watching from being suspicious of the Spirit of Fire's unexpected departure. I'm having Déjà create an official paper trail to support the original fabricated orders and Chief Mendez is making sure the base personnel have their stories straight if anyone asks."

For those that were buying her story they were reassured that the loose ends were being tended to but, for those suspicious ones, they scowled as they realized she was already covering her tracks. She had to smile at this because, within ONI, only a handful were a threat to her and she very much doubted they'd waste their time by attending this meeting in person. Likely the people before her were subordinates or allies of her true enemies, sent to cause her as much trouble as possible while fishing for potential weaknesses that could be exploited.

She would not be so easily manipulated.

"ONI is fortunate to have you, Doctor Halsey," the center man said, sounding like he planned on wrapping things up. "You have an eye for detail and cunning intellect. Therefore unless someone else on this council has any questions, we will adjourn."

She waited, figuring that at least one of the council members who'd verbally attacked her would try for one final swing, but surprise of surprises there was only silence. She supposed that the subordinates of her enemies were smart enough to know when not to press their luck and had chosen discretion over stupidity. Whether or not that would lead to 'consequences' afterwards, she didn't know or care.

"Very well, I adjourn this ONI council meeting," the center man said with the authority he possessed. "All record of what has happened will be classified scarlet triple A and archived. The standard secrecy clauses apply, of course, along with the penalties of speaking of it to those without the necessary clearance level. Good day."

With that the lights around the table turned off, leaving only the one illuminating her as well as her path back to the door that she'd entered through.

 _Clearly they're lovers of drama clichés,_ she thought as she turned and strode towards the exit.

Still, she was a decent actor herself and, while she would remain on guard, it would appear as though the truth of Alex's newest ability would remain known only to him, his team and her.

 _Psychometry,_ the thought with a small bit of wonder. _Another mental ability. I'll admit I didn't know what ability would come next but I had hoped that it would be physical in nature instead. Still, I suppose it's for the best to keep to abilities that can be more easily concealed._

In any case, she would enjoy every minute of her time working with him to master the ability since she had no few artifacts that she would appreciate his now 'unique' insight on.

It would be quite rewarding indeed.

 _ **Reach High Command Complex**_

 _ **Unknown Office**_

"Blast that woman and those FOOLS!" he growled as he dumped himself in his chair, fuming over the less than productive debriefing of Doctor Catherine Halsey.

Ever since he'd officially joined ONI he'd been on the lookout for opportunities to rise through the ranks and gain enough power to steer matters in the direction he believed that they should go. His efforts hadn't gone completely unrewarded but they'd been mere breadcrumbs compared to the payoff he anticipated he would receive with the sinking of the SPARTAN II program. It was no secret around the metaphorical watercooler that the amount of money going into Halsey's program was enough to buy a small continent if a person was so inclined. He'd read the proposal and listened to the woman deliver it to an ONI committee but he'd found her ambitions to be too grandiose and too unreliable. By the woman's own admission the number of successful super soldiers would be less than half of those put through the first two phases.

He had dozens of ideas inside his head that would be much more practical and cost only a fraction of what Halsey was asking for every year at the budget review meetings.

Unfortunately far too many who outranked him were enthralled by the promises the woman had made to them and concerned about the growing threat of the Insurrectionists.

As a result his misgivings had been ignored and his exposure of Halsey's numerous shortcomings had been treated as mere jealous outbursts. However he had not given up. No. He'd kept watch over the financial black hole that was the SPARTAN II program and looked for even the smallest blemish that he could use to his advantage. A few attempts had been made to insert agents into the program for more firsthand information but Mendez and Halsey were being rather paranoid with their security measures. Almost all of his agents had been found out within a week and required that he issue them their 'termination papers' to keep them from bringing trouble to his doorstep. Eventually he'd been forced to content himself with being someone on the outside looking in rather having eyes and ears on the inside where the most damaging information could be found.

When he'd learned that five of Halsey's little freaks of science had managed to escape, he'd nearly started laughing in villainous joy at the opportunity he had, but managed to keep it contained. If even one of them could cause a big enough commotion that it would require a significant amount of ONI resources to contain, it'd be all the ammunition he needed to shut Halsey down. At the very least he could make it so that the program would be assigned an almost impossible to please overseer to monitor things. At most the program would be shut down, the freaks would be put down, and all assets connected to it would be signed over to him, allowing him to put them to much better use.

Unfortunately his hopes only dropped after that when three of the remaining five test subjects were recaptured and two committed suicide after encountering their flash clones. Sure, one of the recaptured freaks had killed his flash clone, but the number of witnesses had been non-existent, so the damage to Halsey wasn't worth talking about.

It'd been during the scenario on Sargasso that he'd pinned his last hope. So much so that he'd used his pull with an 'asset' there to neutralize Halsey's sniper support. It'd been his hope that without a means of safely neutralizing the AWOL freak, the situation would deteriorate either with bride of Frankenstein going on a rampage or Halsey's Hornet opening fire. Both would be too high profile for ONI's top brass and provide him with the opening he needed to sink Halsey for good.

Then another of her freaks showed up and defused the entire situation!

Even when his ally on the debriefing committee had tried to inflame the woman's mistakes, she'd managed to escape with little to no damage to her standing or reputation.

"You might've escaped the lion's maw this time, Halsey, but you can't do it forever," he said as he tapped the fingers on his right hand on his desk. "No one can."

 _ **SPARTAN-II Program Compound**_

 _ **Joy's POV**_

"Nervous?" Alex asked as the team walked to the briefing room where they'd be given their first official mission as SPARTANs.

"A little," she replied even though she knew she looked calm. "Even if the Chief's training was as close to real life as he could get, it was still just training. If we got something wrong or failed, the worst thing that happened was getting twice as much work to do as before. This… this is going to be different."

"Yeah. Still, we'll get through it like we always do," Alex said with his usual smile as the door to the room came into view. "Just keep the hostiles off my back long enough to let me or Daisy to take them down."

A nod declaring her intention to do just that was her reply to his statement.

Entering the room, she found that they had arrived ahead of the UNSC officer that was meant to brief them on their mission. As such she took her seat along with Alex and Daisy to wait while contemplating the possible mission scenarios. John and his team had already returned from successfully capturing Watts so the man could be tried for his many crimes, so retrieval of an enemy leader was a possibility. Based on what she'd heard, she and the other SPARTAN IIs were to be assigned missions that conventional UNSC and ONI forces had been unable to achieve on their own. In most cases the obstruction was the physical limitations of the unenhanced human body or the fact that since there were concerns of leaks within the ranks sending information to the Insurrectionists. It was a fact that not every citizen in UEG space thought of the 'Innies' as enemies and some even sympathized with the plight of those that'd been cheated by the major powers of the inner colonies. As such the sending of classified information or even just calling in the departure time and heading of UNSC ships was a distinct possibility. By employing SPARTANs, a force unknown to all but the top brass of the military and intelligence agencies, there was almost no chance that the Insurrectionists could be tipped off.

Another possible mission was to eliminate an enemy compound and all within.

One of the benefits of running a terrorist group was that you didn't have a clearly defined base of operations and, more often than not, operated as a multitude of cells scattered across a territory. Each terrorist cell varied in size and resources but there were always a few that were especially important to the overall group. These cells either had important commanding officers that could not be easily replaced or served as the source of supplies for the smaller less important ones. If their mission turned out to be the elimination of one of these places then it would seriously hamper the efforts of the Insurrectionists in the surrounding area. It could also lead to the discovery of intel that could point them towards other promising targets and so, like a row of dominoes, they might well be able to cripple an entire group.

 _Still, I guess there's little point to guessing since we'll get our answers soon enough,_ she thought as she looked over to Daisy.

It'd been a week since her teammate had returned to the fold but there was no mistaking that, aside from their brothers and sisters, the rest of the UNSC personnel on base were keeping a close watch on the penitent ex-rebel. While in her opinion Daisy had given up any desire to leave, it was likely that ONI didn't have the same faith that the SPARTAN II would do her duty from there on out. She didn't know how long this would go on but hopefully, after a couple of successful missions, they'd reduce their surveillance back to what'd be considered ordinary for the program.

A few minutes later the door opened and Chief Mendez entered with another UNSC officer, with the latter in full uniform wearing all of the usual accessories.

"ATTENTION!" Mendez yelled, causing her and her team to immediately stand up before snapping off perfect salutes.

"At ease, SPARTANs," the officer said, apparently choosing to take on a more informal atmosphere for the briefing.

It was a bit odd considering the fact that most other ranking officers insisted on the observation of military protocol and etiquette but welcome nonetheless.

Taking her seat, she watched as the officer took a position to the left of the large screen hanging on the far and then pressed a button to activate it.

"For the last several months ONI has come across numerous suspicious materials discovered after the shutting down of an Insurrectionist cell. These items by themselves are fairly unimportant but what caught our attention was not only their lack of connection with established tools or weapons used by the various factions but also how well the containers they were in had been disguised," the officer explained as images of both the locations as well as the various materials flashed on the screen. "However it wasn't until we began simulating the various ways in which these materials could be combined into something useful that we stumbled upon a troubling possibility. While they're still missing a few vital components, it is possible that they're attempting to amass nuclear weapons."

This was enough to cause her to raise an eyebrow since, while not lacking explosives, the Insurrectionists had never attempted to create a nuclear weapon stockpile. What it could be used for would depend on the yield of each individual device the Insurrectionists managed to construct, but at any size many innocent lives would be lost in nuclear fire if even one of them went it off.

"Since this possibility was determined steps have been taken to monitor as many locations where the remaining components can be found, but unfortunately we can't cover them all, not without tipping our hand to the Insurrectionists and causing them to cease their activities temporarily," the officer said before the image of a planet appeared. "That is why we need to find out where all these materials are coming together and shut the problem off at its source. That will be your mission."

"How, precisely, do we find the source, sir?" Alex asked in perfect soldier tone.

"While many of the mission materials can be found at numerous locations, there are two that can only be acquired from a few places. You will go to the most likely of these places and conceal yourselves inside the building across the street from where they're located." The officer changed the image displayed to a specific building. "You will maintain surveillance for as long as needed and, when the faction's forces arrive to steal them, you will follow them to the transport vessel that'll take it off world and stow away inside. Needless to say it will be imperative that your presence not be detected before you arrive at the convergence point of the materials."

"And once we've located the convergence point?" she asked, wanting to know what they were to do once that happened.

"You will then be tasked with eliminating all possible avenues of escape and the securing of the location for UNSC forces. Once this has been done, activate the beacon you'll be equipped with and the nearest reinforcements will converge on your location," the officer replied promptly, looking somewhat pleased with the questions he was receiving.

"What is the name of this faction, sir?" Daisy asked, keeping her voice disciplined and professional.

"The United Rebel Front," the officer replied, turning his head to look the blonde in the eye. "Other SPARTANs are engaged in missions of their own to stop the URF's various operations so it's possible your activities may overlap. Never lose sight of your own mission, though. Each team has its own objective that's equally important."

"Understood, sir," Alex said with conviction and resolve. "We won't let you down."

"I know you won't, son," the officer said, sounding like he had true faith that her team would come out on top.

"You will be departing for the target location in one hour," Chief Mendez said in his usual 'I AM GOD' tone of voice. "Get into uniform, get your gear and be at the landing pad ready to take the Pelican up to the ship that'll transport you. DISMISSED!"

"SIR!" she said along with the others as they all stood up and saluted the Chief before turning as one towards the door.

Once they were clear of the room and around the corner she began to contemplate what she should bring with her on this mission. An obvious must would be tech that would aid in circumventing security systems without being detected. Locks on doors as well as masking their life signs from any scans would be essential if they were to follow the materials back to their source. When considering weapons, she concluded that they would have to be concealable and equipped with suppressors in order to minimize the chances of discovery. She could not decide if the ammunition should be tranquilizer darts or live rounds since both eliminate anyone who managed to spot them, but the former held the possibility of the alarm being raised without any warning.

 _Live rounds it is then,_ she thought, making a decision on the ammunition.

While a dead body killed by gunfire would cause the alarm to be raised anyway, it would deprive the URF of any information regarding their numbers, appearance or weaponry. A change of clothes and careful utilization of the facts would allow them to go undetected a while longer, increasing the odds of achieving all their objectives. It would also result in the Insurrectionists casting a wide net in an effort to locate the intruders, making it that much easier to slip through the holes inherent in such a net.

 _One of us will have to bring explosives,_ she thought as they made their way outside. _While it's possible we could acquire them onsite, there's no guarantee of that._

There was also the question of how many vehicles the URF would have at the convergence point but, without having any way to guess, she'd simply have to bring as much as was practical.

The debate continued until they reached the barracks but she was confident that by the time they were airborne, they'd be ready for departure.

 _ **Jericho VII, Lambda Serpentis System**_

 _ **Xander's POV**_

 _So this is Jericho VII,_ he thought as they walked onto the sidewalk, looking like a trio of college kids with duffle bags slung on their backs. _Pretty place._

Still, they weren't there for the sightseeing, so with a look to the others they moved towards the car rental business a short distance away from the civilian spaceport. He'd already memorized the layout of the area on the trip from Reach so he knew exactly where their surveillance post was located but it'd be a little conspicuous for them to walk all the way there. Whether due to lack of time or laziness, most civilians, he'd been told, preferred to drive wherever they needed to go, plus their bags were quite large, thus being conspicuous to bystanders. Better they be in the trunk of a car, leaving nothing to see by three ordinary looking civilians than out in the open getting looked at by everyone.

It only took a few minutes to go through the paperwork, using the fake identity information that'd been provided for them, and then they were on their way. The car they'd chosen was fairly commonplace and didn't stand out in the least from any other vehicle going down the street, but that was the point. The clothes, the car and the fake I.D.s were all provided in order to make people barely spare them a passing glance, thus reducing the odds of the local URF members becoming suspicious of them. Looking in the rearview mirror for a moment, he saw that Joy was looking at the scenery, no doubt wondering what it'd be like to do some sightseeing. They all did it every once in a while, daydream about what it'd be like to live a civilian's lifestyle, but they all knew it was unlikely they'd ever get the chance to make their dreams a reality. Instead they took solace in the fact that they were the ones charged with protecting places like this so that others could enjoy its splendor and that proved to be motivation enough to do their best.

Once they arrived at the stakeout point they entered the building across the street from where the key part was located and approached the clerk at the front desk.

"Can I help you young'uns?" the old man said, looking up at them once they stood in front of him.

"We reserved a room," he replied, trying to sound like a normal civilian and not a soldier. "Number twenty-three?"

"Ah, yes! I remember that call," the old man said with a smile. "Your parents are putting ya up here while you try to find work. Nice lady."

The elderly man then turned to a rack of keys, perusing it for the right one, before taking one off and handing it to him.

"Hope you find it to your liking," the old man said, the smile still on his face.

"I'm sure we will, sir," he said as he shoved the key into his pocket. "Have a nice day, sir."

"Same to you, young man," the elderly man said as he turned back to the small television sitting on a nearby table. "Same to you."

With that bit done they ascended to the second floor of the building via the elevator and in less than a minute were inside the room that'd been reserved them. Setting their bags on the floor, he looked at both Daisy and Joy, telling them with a look to search the room for any hidden cameras, microphones and sensors that might've been planted there by the Insurrectionists. It wasn't that he thought that the URF were onto them already but it made tactical sense to him that they might keep tabs on all the local hotels, motels and rentable rooms in the area. Longtime residents were trustworthy enough but newcomers that just happened to arrive before an operation were suspicious and therefore needed to be watched carefully. According to the briefing files they'd been given, the owner of the building they were in and the people who worked there had already been subjected to a thorough background check. He presumed that, since their surveillance post hadn't been changed by the time that they departed Reach, that all the civilians checked out as not being Insurrectionists or URF sympathizers.

Still, it was possible that URF members had come here just as they had posing as guests and planted their devices before leaving, so he wanted to be sure the room was secure.

"All clear," Daisy said from the bathroom.

"All clear," Joy said from the bedroom.

"Same here," he said from the main living area.

With that handled he walked over to the window facing the target building and pulled the curtains closed before going over to the bags and unpacking. First out was their surveillance gear, consisting of cameras with a variety of different lenses to allow them crystal clear images of the building where the target item was located. They also had directional microphones that would allow them to eavesdrop on any point inside the fence surrounding the target property. Last was an impressive laptop computer that was equipped with software that'd allow them to connect to the security system on the property. With the speed and efficiency that they'd been trained to use they set up each device perfectly and made sure it wouldn't be readily visible to pedestrians on the sidewalk.

The ONI files didn't specify when the theft was going to occur, not precisely, so they'd have to work in shifts, with one of them getting a few hours sleep before relieving one of the others.

It was around nightfall when Daisy spoke up.

"So what do you think the URF plans to use the nukes for?" she asked even as she paid attention to the sounds being picked up by the directional microphone.

"Hard to say without knowing the URFs strategy and what yield the nukes will be," he replied while looking through the camera at the target building. "If it's a stockpile of the smaller ones it'll be something planet-side, possibly civilian, but if they're all high yield my money's on a UNSC ship or orbital station. They're not exactly picky about their targets."

"Their main focus seems to be using scare tactics in an effort to intimidate the UEG into granting independence for all the outer colonies," Joy said, putting in her own two credits while working on the computer checking camera feeds. "Too bad that's not going to happen anytime soon. Earth and the inner colonies have too much invested in the outer colonies to just let them go. Add to that the need for justice as a result of the civilian body count and it'd take something terrifying to make the UEG even consider it."

Indeed.

What he didn't mention, though, was the possibility that the suspected nukes that were the cause of this mission could be that terrifying 'something'. While he'd like to think that ONI had managed to catch the odd flow of materials early enough, it was possible that multiple nuclear weapons had already been made and the URF were just waiting for the desired number to be made before using them. A coordinated nuclear strike on multiple UEG colony worlds would shake the galaxy and cast doubt on the ability of the UNSC to stop them. The civilian populations of every world would put pressure on the UEG to do whatever was necessary to stop the attacks, including giving into the demands of the Insurrectionists.

That could not be allowed to happen for multiple reasons.

Hours stretched on and time passed but not once did they neglect their duty or allow their surveillance to grow dull. With no way to confirm the identities of the URF members that intended to steal the target item, the only option left was to watch for suspicious activity or listen for suspicious conversations. One point in their favor was that the target item wasn't something you could shove into your pocket, so they'd have time to gear up once Insurrectionist presence was confirmed. Still, they'd have to move fast to sneak aboard the truck that'd likely be used to transport the target item. Depending on its size and configuration, the number of suitable hiding spots for people their size would be limited. It'd be even worse if the URF operatives wound up occupying those spots but he'd cross that bridge when they came to it.

 _I'll think of something,_ he thought with great focus. _I always do._

 _ **Hours Later**_

 _ **Daisy-023's POV**_

"I've got a possible contact," the said, looking through the camera at the target building. "One HC1500 truck slowing down at the entrance to the property."

"License plate?" Joyce asked from her computer, no doubt intending to look up the vehicle registry.

She rattled off what she could see before zooming back out so she could more easily keep the entire truck in view.

"Two occupants in the driver's cabin up front," she reported before the HC1500 turned to the right, granting her a look at its side. "Window shutters are closed on the side so I can't tell if there's anyone inside visually."

"Give me a minute," Alex said as he aimed the directional microphone. "Confirmed human presence in the back… only one."

"Pretty light putting only one person in back for security," she said even as she adjusted the direction the camera was aimed at.

"Could be they think that the UNSC hasn't picked up on their operation yet," Alex said, keeping his aim true bit by bit. "Could be they think that the fewer people involved, the less chance anyone will look at them too closely."

All were possibilities but at least it'd make things easier for them when it came to catching a ride on the truck so they could make it back to the URF LZ.

Once the truck reached the gate she watched as the guard on duty walked up to the driver's side door like he was supposed to in order to verify that the truck was authorized to be there. Everything looked okay on the surface but, as she turned to look at Alex, she could see that he was tenser than he'd been earlier, implying that what he was hearing wasn't exonerating the vehicle occupants. She didn't ask what he was hearing because she trusted him as team leader to know what to look for and what to act on. Not that she had the authority to overrule him if she thought he was making the wrong choice, since that was the province of the second-in-command and Joyce was cemented into that role quite thoroughly.

"It's them. The gate guard told them that he 'took care' of the rest of the security guards and that they wouldn't be 'disturbed'," Alex said as he put down the directional microphone. "Time to gear up."

With that order they went to their bags and pulled out the black bodysuits, vests and helmets they'd been assigned for the mission. Changing into them took a little over a minute and, once they had their gear secured, they left the room via the skylight that'd been the primary reason for this room being reserved besides the view of the target property. With speed, precision and stealth they made their way to the building's fire escape before making their way to ground level. Alex took the lead, using hand signals when he wanted them to stop, when they needed to hide behind a dumpster to avoid being spotted and when they could proceed towards the target building.

It was easy enough for them to leap over the top of the fence once they were close enough and, just as the Chief had taught them, they all managed to land making virtually no sound at all. Heading for the target building was easy enough, moving through the gaps in the lighting, using whatever objects they could to obscure their approach to both camera and person alike. While to some they might be taking more time than most would like, the Chief had told him that a soldier sometimes needed patience more than they needed speed. 'Slow is smooth and smooth is fast' he'd said more than once. They could not allow themselves to be detected and undermining stealth for the purpose of speed would increase the odds of them failing in their mission. Thus, when they reached the target building, they ascended up the side via whatever handholds they could find until they pulled themselves onto the roof. Crouched down on bent knees they moved to the skylight that existed in the center of the roof, going just far enough that they could get a look inside.

The tech of their helmets was enough to see with perfect clarity even with the darkness that existed and, when added to the zoom function, they were able to monitor the activities of the men inside. Seeing what she was, it was confirmation enough that these were indeed Insurrectionists since they were already using a forklift to lift the target item so it could be moved into the truck. Given the dimensions of the container and the dimensions of the target item, there were likely quite a few of the latter inside the former.

This supported the premise that the Insurrectionists were planning on building multiple nukes.

"So what's the plan?" she asked after activating comm-gear in the helmet.

"Based on what I can see and sense, all the Insurrectionists are occupied with moving their target container. We will wait until they're on their way out of the building in their vehicle then leap onto the roof," Alex replied before moving towards the doors the truck had travelled through. "It should be sturdy enough to support our weight without giving our presence away. We will need to lay flat in order to keep from being seen and remain aware of any threats that might expose our presence, such as mirrors or guards at elevated positions. With any luck no one will be the wiser."

"You're depending on luck?" Joyce asked, sounding like she'd prefer something a little more concrete.

"Planning can only account for so much," he replied as they reached the edge of the building. "The rest is completely up to chance or luck."

"Somehow I don't think ONI or the Chief will see it that way if we fail," Joyce said, maintaining her displeasure.

"Then we won't fail," he said, sounding like he had no doubt that they'd accomplish the mission.

They waited, letting their sense of hearing judge where the truck was, and, when it was time, they leapt as one, landing on the roof of the truck as it emerged from the building. She understood the purpose of landing at the same time since whatever jarring the vehicle did could be mistaken for a pothole or a shift in the weight of the cargo. If they'd landed separately it would be impossible to mistake it as anything but unknowns landing on the roof, causing their mission to fail.

As soon as she felt her downward descent slow enough she moved to flatten herself against the roof of the truck just as instructed. She didn't move her head to see if the others had done the same since it might expose their presence but she trusted her teammates to know what they needed to do. Instead she focused on the turns that the truck took, mentally matching them to the map of the city she had in her mind and committed it to memory. She would provide it during the team's debriefing so it could be used to monitor any future enemy activity as well as which spaceport they had influence with. ONI would be able to use such information to make it harder for the Insurrectionists to work out of Jericho VII and the surrounding space.

Time passed but a little over thirty minutes later her eyes spotted a sign that said that the Mark Twain Spaceport was three kilometers ahead. Given that it was unlikely that the terrorists planned on assembling everything on this planet, it was a good bet for their departure destination. Sharpening her focus she did her best to estimate the speed of the vehicle she was on, mentally counting down the distance from three kilometers. When the sounds of shuttles let her know they were close and when the truck began to slow in order to make the turn she flattened herself as much as she could on the roof in order to escape notice.

"What's up, Joe?" a man asked and she presumed he was one of the gate guards for the spaceport.

"Same old, same old. Some idiot behind a desk copied an order down wrong and now I gotta get outta bed, drive to work and then haul a heavy ass crate here for shipping off world," 'Joe' replied, sounding like he was a friend of the guard.

"Makes you wonder who they're bedding to keep their jobs, 'cause they sure ain't there for their brains," the guard said, sounding like he had a similar opinion to Joe's.

"Ugh! If you don't mind I'd rather not think about what those geeks do in the closets back at work," Joe said, sounding quite disgusted with the imagery his mind had come up with.

"Okay. Looks like everything checks out," the guard said, apparently having finished checking the paperwork. "The Merlin's Wings is in its hanger waiting for you. Better hurry on over there before they nod off and you ruin their sleep too."

"Yeah, well, spreading the misery around is what friendship's all about," Joe said humorously before the truck began to move again.

Once the truck reached its cruising speed she felt Alex tapping her shoulder and that was the signal to ditch their ride. A good call in her mind since now that they knew the name of the ship, they could tap into the spaceport's systems to find the hanger it was in and approach it on their terms. Waiting until the luminescence was at its lowest she rolled off the roof of the truck, letting gravity take her to the ground, but once there she moved as quickly yet as stealthily to the nearest option for concealment.

Crouching in the shadows, Daisy and Alex joined her seconds later.

"Joy, I want you to tap into the spaceport's network and get a hanger number for The Merlin's Wings," Alex ordered in his role as team leader. "Once we have it we double time it there and sneak into it and keep a low profile. Daisy, once we're in space you'll pop out only to plant a tracer on the container holding the target item. The ship might be transporting more cargo and we don't want to get off on the wrong planet."

With a nod she pulled out her portable computer and, after connecting wirelessly to the spaceport's computer network, began to infiltrate it for the information they needed.

 _After all those times learning cyber-warfare techniques and hacking methods, this is almost easier than breathing,_ she thought as she slipped past the firewall without causing even a slight ripple. _Still, best to take it seriously since tripping any digital alarms would be bad at this point._

It took her two minutes of key tapping but after that she had a full listing of all the hangers and the ships assigned to them.

"Here is it is. The Merlin's Wings captained and owned by a Walter Garibaldi," she said, reading through the relevant information. "Hanger Six."

"Let's move, Rogue Team," Alex ordered before taking the lead moving as fast as he could without attracting attention of any eyes in the area.

While the truck transporting the container was a fair ways ahead of them, it would take time to load it onto the ship and then get clearance for takeoff. That should give them the time they needed to reach the hanger, sneak on board and conceal themselves from the ship's crew.

All that was left to do was to do it.


	6. Gremlins and Ghosts

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the copyrighted materials contained herein. They are the rightful property of their respective creators and/or associated companies. I make no profit from this whatsoever and I have no intent of changing this at any point in the future. I write because I find it fun and because there are people who enjoy reading the stories I tell. Therefore I would greatly appreciate it if no legal action were taken against me. I can assure you that I have nowhere near enough money to make legal action worth it.

Note 1: Positive reviews will be appreciated, constructive criticism will be considered but not necessarily acted upon and purely negative/bashing reviews will be ignored.

Note 2: I willingly concede that PERHAPS I have gone too far in trying to intertwine/insinuate Joyce and Xander into the Halo-verse without their memories. I just didn't see the point in having them regain their former life memories too soon. I know arguments could be made that Joyce and Xander could've kept the uncorking of their memories to themselves but do you really see them putting up with SPARTAN-II training and the augmentation procedures willingly with their teenage/adult minds? I don't. I see them trying to escape ASAP or expose the program and likely getting themselves killed or 're-educated' by whatever means necessary.

In any case I have decided to try to put out the rest of what I've got written for this fan fiction quicker and then get to work on the mission/story arc that'll finally get Xander and Joyce's memories back. It might read as a bit rushed but just understand that this is what a lot of you wanted.

 _ **The Merlin's Wings, Leaving the Upper Atmosphere of Jericho VII**_

 _ **Alex's POV**_

Crouched in the corner of the cargo hold in the darkest shadows they'd been able to find, he waited.

Waited for it to be safe to say anything or move.

"Security cameras neutralized. Same with sensors," Joy said, closing up her portable computer. "Both are running a fifteen minute loop."

"Odds of being discovered?" he asked, wanting to know if they needed to take extra precautions.

"Low. From what I can tell there's no ship A.I., or at least none monitoring the cameras and sensors. Depending on how seriously the captain takes such things, they'll only get suspicious if they send someone down here and someone looking at the camera feed doesn't see anything," she replied, tucking her tool away.

"So we've basically got an unknown amount of time to find places to hide and plant the tracer?" he said, considering what he'd been told. "Joyce, you and I will look for a container the three of us can hide in. Daisy, plant the tracer then join us."

"On it," Daisy said before quietly departing to find the target container.

As for him and Joy they began to carefully examine every other container of sufficient size to hide three SPARTANs but also wasn't close enough to the unloading hatch that they'd be spotted slipping out once they got to where they wanted to go. Hopefully they'd find one with enough free space on the inside that they wouldn't have to take anything out in order to make room, otherwise they'd have to hide somewhere in the cargo hold. If the crew of the ship were competent enough to be trusted by the Insurrectionists, they'd notice if something that was supposed to be in a container was suddenly out of it. It'd make them suspicious enough to investigate leading to possible exposure for his team.

That could not be permitted.

Fortunately enough for them the ship bore a close resemblance in design to a UNSC Charon-class light frigate but was still entirely civilian in design. That should mean similar maintenance hatches and detachable wall plating that they could use to stash the excess cargo so it wouldn't be discovered until much later.

Reading the stickers on each container while Joy looked for the COM pad with the ship's manifest, it took them five minutes to find a likely candidate two thirds of the way to the rear of the cargo hold. Apparently it was an assortment of items that were to be delivered to multiple different worlds and as such they were stacked on either side of the container with a space in between to allow for easy access to each individual item. Thanks to their training their builds were slim enough to easily go down the middle so the only risk would be if the ship stopped to drop off these numerous items before delivering the Insurrectionists their cargo.

However he believed that the risk was small since it only made logical sense to arrange the cargo so that the items due to be dropped at first would be placed closer to the hatch, with the last items to be delivered would be closer to the rear. In that case the container that they were hiding in would be delivered after the target container was unloaded rather than before.

"Tracer's placed in a concealed location on the container and active," Daisy said upon her return. "However in order to make sure it isn't detected the signal is only good for a little over fifty yards."

"Not a problem. As long as we know when it's being moved off the Merlin's Wings that's all that matters," he said, not worried about the range all that much. "Joy and I have managed to find a container to hide in. Come on."

Navigating the narrow corridors between the various containers, they soon arrived at the right container where Joy was already working to bypass the lock so that they could get inside. When the indicator light turned green the door popped open and they made their way inside before pulling the doors as close to closed as possible without risking getting locked in. It wouldn't be readily visible from the doors that led to the rest of the ship so they'd just have to listen very carefully for footsteps and be prepared to neutralize any x-factors that came their way.

"Not enough room to lay down," Daisy noted, the night vision of her helmet letting her see everything with crystal clarity.

"Enough room to sit down but it'd have to be on the floor," Joy said before following her own suggestion. "But I wouldn't try doing it on one of the containers. I doubt they can hold up to our weight."

"We can manage it. Same sleep shifts as before," he said as he sat down on the floor. "Two asleep and one awake, monitoring the signal of the tracer. When it moves, we move. Daisy you've got first watch."

With that he did the best he could do to get comfortable before closing his eyes and sleeping like Chief Mendez had taught them to do back in training. Apparently ever since military black ops had been invented soldiers had been working to figure out a way to sleep in just about any position while being capable of springing into action at a moment's notice. The Chief said that they'd pretty much figured it all out in fifty years and were just putting the last bit of polish on it.

Fortunately the techniques they'd learned had also included numerous abrupt wake ups from the instructors to test how quickly they could go from being asleep to being combat ready.

They didn't stop until every SPARTAN got it under three seconds.

Using the time before he slipped into sleep to review how the next stage of the mission would go, he wondered where the Insurrectionist base would be. Would it be on a known world, a space station or someplace else? He ruled out the first one since building nuclear weapons required nuclear materials and ONI likely had every planet suspected of having an Insurrectionist presence under satellite surveillance. If they detected even a small blip of radiation matching the right materials, they'd have swarmed the location to determine the source.

Call them what you would but the terrorists weren't stupid. They wouldn't risk the UNSC dropping down onto the manufacturing facility responsible for game changing weapons production.

A space station was possible but it would have to be one that was completely under their control or that didn't have a dangerous level of internal foot traffic. Loose lips sunk ships after all and, with ONI's reputation, all it'd take would be a handful of civilians chatting about something suspicious to get them to investigate further. It'd likely be old and independent since most others were either under UNSC control or corporate control.

Neither possibility was on the best of terms with the Insurrectionists at the moment.

As for the third possibility it could be anything from a planet barely capable of supporting human life to a moon base that barely saw any use anymore. The moon base would likely be the ideal location since it assured privacy while also not requiring the smuggling of large amounts of materials to build structures from scratch or power them. There was also the fact that, unless the ONI officer in charge of the overall operation thought of it, the likelihood of satellites making a pass over the moon was small. So long as the Insurrectionists didn't do anything to draw attention to it, a moon base would suit their purposes and probably amuse them since it'd be right under the UNSC's nose.

A moon base wouldn't be very big but it'd have to be large enough for the Merlin's Wings to get inside so that they could open the cargo bay hatch and offload the target container. Taking into account the needed clearance for the ship to get inside without bumping into anything and the possibility that the hanger would also be used for storage, slipping away wouldn't be too hard. It'd have been nice if they could've brought with them civilian clothes that'd help them blend in but ONI hadn't known which ship would be transporting the stolen merchandise. While some might've considered employing generic jumpsuits common to cargo vessels, he hadn't. Outside of locations where a strict dress code was adhered to people tended to add personal touches to their uniforms, to say nothing of patches on the upper arms or on the chest area. Without details like that, Rogue team would be spotted minutes after getting off the Merlin's Wings and be exposed as intruders shortly thereafter.

Better to try and slip off as they were and exit the moon base's hanger as swiftly as they could.

Once that was done they could look about for more effective disguises and use them to follow the container with the stolen items to where they'd be utilized.

After that they would listen, they would look and once they had a grasp of the situation in the base they would act.

The objectives for the mission were to neutralize all methods of escape, defeat the Insurrectionists in the moon base by whatever means necessary and then activate the beacon that'd bring in reinforcements. Naturally standing orders regarding the secrecy of the SPARTAN II program and his team would be in play, meaning cutting all means of communication would also be necessary.

 _Shouldn't be too hard. We can get it done as we take care of the escape routes,_ he thought as sleep began to take him. _Take out the transmission hardware and any distress calls they send out won't have anywhere to go._

His last though was of how the Chief liked to throw little surprises into his training missions.

He'd be ready.

 _ **The Merlin's Wings, Thirty Hours Later**_

 _ **Daisy's POV**_

"It's moving," she said as the dot on the receiver's screen began to move.

"Wait thirty seconds then we slip out," Alex said as he and Joy began to pick up their gear and strap it on.

Following their example she picked up what gear she'd taken off during the long voyage and put it back on but fortunately it wasn't very much. With no way of knowing when they'd arrive at their destination she'd only taken off the bare minimum while making sure that she'd be ready for a fight the second the door to the container they were in opened. Thirty seconds later she was ready to go and, with Xander taking the lead, they opened the container doors and slipped out to find the initial assessment about the order of delivery was true. Everything to the back of the cargo bay was to be delivered last while everything to be delivered sooner was closer to the hatch. Thanking whatever gods might be listening that the door to their container had been well oiled, they managed to get out without making a sound and no crew member had a direct line of sight to them.

Following Joy, who was following Alex, they made their way to the side before arriving at a hatch that the team leader went to work on. Circumventing the lock was hardly a challenge since this was a civilian craft and, once the hatch, presumably for accessing the landing gear, was open, Alex dropped down first. After a few seconds his icon on her helmet's HUD blinked, signaling the all clear and prompting Joy to drop next, leaving her to pick up the rear.

The drop wasn't all that great and the bulk of the landing gear proved to be enough to conceal them from the other occupants of the hanger they'd arrived in. There weren't a lot of people, certainly not enough to make detection certain, but they would still have to exercise caution while following the marked container. It would be ideal if they had reached the ultimate destination of the target items but there was also the possibility that they was just a temporary stop where it'd be transferred to another ship for the remainder of its journey. If that was so then it was even more important that they not lose sight of it.

Keeping their footfalls silent and using whatever cover they could, they followed the moving blip on her receiver, only stopping to hide from eyes both organic and electronic. Along the way they managed to come across a storage room where uniforms of a sort were stored and, as though the gods she'd been thanking earlier had decided to give a bonus, the container also stopped. Quickly slipping on the uniforms while removing the name tags, they stuffed their helmets into their equipment sacks and pulled on whatever worker helmets or caps had been in the room. She adjusted hers to make it harder for cameras affixed to the walls to get a clear look at her face and the others did likewise, or the best they could with what headgear that they had to work with.

A second after they finished the blip on the receiver resumed moving and they exited the storage room, casually walking down the hallways, trying not to draw attention. Anytime they heard someone coming from ahead they adjusted our gaze or started talking like they'd heard some of their instructors talking during drills. Nothing that would out them as UNSC but something more common to civilians and it seemed to do the trick.

Unless they came across someone who knew the faces and attributes of every person in the compound, they should have little trouble getting to where they needed to go.

It was about twenty minutes later that they reached their first hurdle that couldn't simply be walked past without raising nine different kinds of trouble.

At the end of a long hallway was a door and on either side were two guards armed with MA5B rifles, both of whom looked ready to use them at the first sign of hostiles. This raised the probability that they had indeed found an Insurrectionist compound since the weapon was not exactly easy to come by for civilians. Without breaking stride they veered away from the guarded door down a hallway to the left and didn't stop until they were too far away for the guards to hear their footsteps. There were no convenient rooms for them to slip into to talk and, even if there were, there was a chance they'd be occupied by terrorists.

"What's the reading on the tracer?" Alex asked while Joy kept watch up and down the hallway.

"It's come to a stop. Judging from its position, it's definitely in the room those two men are guarding," she replied, looking at her receiver to confirm what she was saying.

"Then we wait ten minutes. If it doesn't move by then we'll know it's at its final destination. We find an access port Joy can use and get a map of the place and nothing but. Once we have that, we can figure out a way to block all outgoing transmissions and departures before moving in on the room."

"No explosions," Joy said, firmly looking Alex in the eye.

She rolled her eyes a bit at this since it had been a favored tactic of their team leader during matches with the instructors to employ explosives either as distractions or to accomplish the objective. Not real explosives, of course, but rather ones that were all noise but no real damage. Unless the Chief specifically stipulated that no explosives were to be used, Alex usually made sure he had some on him when the matches started.

"No explosions," Alex agreed, sounding irritated that Joy thought he was that fond of the deadly tool.

With a loose plan in mind they continued on their way looking for any port that Joy's computer could hook into. While they could try a wireless access, that would likely raise flags in the compound's security system unless certain checks came back green. Using a computer or a port that was already a part of the network would draw less scrutiny. They got their option a moment later when a woman in a lab coat left a room that, judging by the brief glimpse she'd gotten, was an office of some kind.

Waiting until the woman was out of hearing distance, Joy casually opened the door before they all filed in. Immediately she spotted a camera and, given their current clothing, it was likely that they stood out even with the uniforms they'd acquired. She might not be as familiar with the world of adults as most civilians no doubt were but workers didn't get to see the inside of office rooms unless the assigned occupant was there. On a whim she dropped her bag and the receiver and immediately got as close as she could to Alex subtly guiding him to a spot that would block the camera's direct line of sight to the woman's computer. Placing her arms on him like she'd seem a woman at the base do with one of the ODSTs, she did her best to look natural before putting her mouth close to his ear.

"Camera. Upper left corner," she whispered as quietly as she could. "We block. Joy neutralizes."

This seemed to dispel any reluctance from Alex, who'd likely been confused by her actions, and together they did the best they could to act as two civilians would. Joy, thankfully, either had excellent hearing or had managed to figure out her true intentions without spoken words. She leaned back on the office woman's desk, appearing for the world like she was just going to sit back and watch the show, but this was a deception. With the arm that was blocked by her and Alex the third member of their team carefully worked to deal with the cameras first by hooking her computer into the office computer. Once that was done she watched as her teammate tapped certain buttons on it but instead of lighting up like she'd seen before it only dimly came to life.

That was about as much as she could observe before her efforts to deceive anyone watching through the cameras required her complete attention. She'd only briefly seen what the man and the woman had been up to on the base since she'd messed up and gotten noticed, so now she had to make things up as she went. From what she'd seen it'd been a lot of kissing and rubbing so she went with that hoping that between her and Alex they'd be able to look believable enough.

It was weird.

She'd seen her mommy and daddy kiss like this when they thought that she wasn't looking but had never tried to copy it like some of her friends had during her birthday parties. As a result her kisses were clumsy but, after a few tries, the two of them managed to coordinate their actions to appear more smooth.

As for the rubbing, she didn't know where she should rub or how precisely to rub like any observers would expect, so she stuck to what she'd seen the woman do on the base.

It took Joy only five minutes to hack into the system and neutralize the camera.

"There. I stuck it with a three minute loop," Joy said, dropping her spectator façade before turning to face the office computer directly. "Fortunately they don't time stamp their video feeds so we won't have to worry about anyone noticing the clock resetting repeatedly."

"Good. Get the map and print out three copies," Alex said, backing away from her, sounding a little off but still professional.

"Okay. It looks like we're on a moon base orbiting Tribute in the Epsilon Eridani system," Joy said once the map was on the screen. "If we want to cut outgoing communications… we can do it here from the central control hub. All communications are routed through it. I'll take that. With some of the programs I've loaded into my computer it shouldn't take me more than five minutes to bring it all down."

"Aside from the hanger bay we dropped in to, it looks like there are two other smaller hangers, likely holding one SKT-13 shuttlecraft apiece," Alex said, examining the map on the screen. "This is still an official base so appearances would have to be maintained with shuttle traffic to and from it. So long as no one from outside this Insurrectionist cell comes here, everything would be business as usual to anyone watching. I'll sabotage the hanger doors to keep them from opening. Can you access the flight schedule for those hangers?"

"No. Simple things like a map I can do without tripping any security flags but bringing up flight schedules would definitely trigger something." Joy said with a shake of her head.

"Then we'll have to hope that no one's going anywhere anytime soon," Alex said, sounding disappointed but not discouraged.

"I'll go with Joy. Shutting down communications is vital," she said, deciding on where best her talents could be used.

"No. There's a vent over there big enough for you to squeeze through," Alex said, pointing to the spot on the wall. "Navigate the vents and try to get to one that'll give you a view of the room being guarded. Listen to what they say. We need to know how close they are to finishing their work and any advance intel would be useful when we breach the room."

She didn't relish having to squeeze through so small a space but she'd received her orders and she trusted Alex. He'd come for her when she'd tried to return home and convinced her that she could belong amongst her fellow SPARTANs. She would do as he asked unless something significant made doing so unwise.

"We each know what we have to do," Alex said, looking at Joy and then at her. "By my estimate we can get each of our tasks done within twenty minutes and then meet back here to breach the room. If one of us doesn't come back we'll wait five minutes before assuming there's trouble and proceeding with the breaching. The only thing that matters is the neutralization of the Insurrectionist's ability to utilize the nukes they've made. Understand?"

She nodded and Joy followed suit.

With Alex's nod he and Joy left the room, leaving her to unscrew the vent cover and proceed with her side of things. As she went to work on the first screw she had to wonder why the place had vents big enough for even a woman of her size to squeeze through with any ease. She could only presume that it had something to do with the necessary flow of air through the complex in order to meet the needs of the people occupying it. In any case, once the vent cover was off, she shed the uniform so that all she had on was her original black SPARTAN uniform. After a moment's consideration she chose not to put her HUD equipped helmet back on out of concern that it'd only make her job harder. Gripping the edges of the vent she pulled herself into then pulled herself deeper into the metal tunnel, glad that it looked like it'd been built with materials made to last a long time. As a result it was sturdy enough to carry even her enhanced weight without threatening to bend or break.

 _Best not get used to it,_ she thought as she crawled along using her mental map to guide her. _I doubt future mission locations are going to be as accommodating._

 _ **SPARTAN Zero-Seven-Zero aka Joy's POV**_

She did not have time for excess thoughts or emotions.

She had her task.

Using her photographic memory, something that'd been proven conclusively by Doctor Halsey and Deja, she navigated the corridors towards the central control hub. She kept her pace swift but not so much that it'd catch the curiosity of any who she passed along the way. Given her destination's importance to the overall complex, it'd likely have security both electronic and human, meaning she'd have to work quickly if she wanted to subdue both before a general alarm could be raised.

Fortunately part of her loadout before departing reach contained a tool that'd help: two palm-sized tranquilizer pistols armed with two shots apiece.

Turning the final corner she soon spotted the entrance and, like she'd expected, there were two guards stationed outside. She saw when they registered her presence but stayed on course, not changing pace. She knew that she'd need to get as close to them as she could in order to circumvent the lock and open the door swiftly enough to neutralize the room's occupants. Keeping her composure cool and professional, she waited until it looked like one of the guards was about to tell her that the central control hub was for authorized personnel only.

Then, with quick efficiency, she took the tranquilizer pistols out of the uniform's pockets, aimed for the exposed necks and fired.

Both men had only time enough to look shocked before the chemical did its job, causing them to drop to the floor. Knowing her cover was now blown she broke into full sprint, reaching the door in seconds and immediately she took the card key from one of the unconscious guards, swiping it through the reader. The light on the security panel went from red to green and the door slid open, revealing the interior of the room along with its six occupants. Using the two remaining darts she targeted one occupant that was close what looked like the transmission device for the complex's internal com-system and another occupant close to an alarm button. Pulling the triggers she didn't wait for the projectiles to hit their targets before she dropped the pistols and engaged the closest of the remaining four people. This one was standing so she struck out at his throat to prevent any yelling but not do enough to possibly cause suffocation. Once she was sure the first blow had done its job she threw a right cross to the jaw, rendering the man unconscious.

Moving onto the next person, who looked to be trying to escape, she immediately dropped and executed a leg sweep that took the runner's legs out from under him. Recovering quicker than her target, she was soon beside him, allowing her to grab him by the head before slamming it into the floor, making him as unconscious as the first one.

By this time the second last occupant was moving towards the emergency button, no doubt in an effort to alert everyone in the base to an intruder in the central control hub. Picking up what looked to be some sort of desk decoration she threw it with precision at the woman's head, causing it to shatter on impact and inciting a stumble. Crossing the distance she grabbed the arm that looked to be determined to reach the emergency button, pulled it away from its desired destination and then was used to swing the woman's face into a part of the wall deeper in the room. Releasing the arm confirmed that the impact had knocked the woman out, leaving only one occupant left to deal with before she could begin her task.

"I surrender!" the man exclaimed, arms raised in surrender and with no small amount of fear on his face. "Please don't kill me!"

"That depends entirely on you," she said as she approached the man at a speed that would still seem threatening but not give the impression of impending harm.

"What do you want?" he asked, almost shaking with fear.

"To shut down all outgoing transmissions. Make it impossible for anyone to send a signal out to anyone."

While it would make things easier for her to convince the man to do her work for her, she could not be certain that he wouldn't betray her somehow. According to the ONI reports on the Insurrectionists as a whole, they were often fanatical in their desire to gain independence from the inner colonies and the UEG. The degree of fanaticism varied from person to person but this was not a situation that she could risk the man choosing to be a hero by slipping out a warning. Still, as he slid the chair he'd been sitting on to a specific terminal, she was at least pleased that she now knew where to focus her efforts.

As soon as she was close enough she immediately put him in a chokehold designed to make it impossible for him to even whisper and would also swiftly render him unconscious. The man struggled for a bit but this only hastened the exhaustion of what breath he'd had in his lungs and what strength had been in his body. Once she was certain he was out she carefully laid him on the ground before going to the necessary console. Connecting her computer to it via one of the ports, she immediately began to efficiently use both her manual hacking abilities as well as a few programs stored on the hard drive to access the communications systems.

One by one she introduced blockages to the various pathways that she'd designed herself that would reject any commands by the terrorists and lock out their passcodes. The pathways that had been part of the base's initial construction were the easiest to neutralize but she could see that the Insurrectionists had added a couple of their own that were a little more complex. Still, she'd designed the blockage programs so that they'd be capable of keeping Deja at bay for at least an hour so she doubted that anyone in the base would be able to get past them sooner. By that time there'd be UNSC ships surrounding the exterior of the base and UNSC troops inside securing everything of value or dangerous.

 _Done,_ she thought as she confirmed that the last of the blockage programs were in place. _Not a peep's getting off this base without my authorization._

With her task done she moved about the room, using whatever seemed handy to bind the unconscious occupants before bringing the guards outside into the room and doing the same. Checking her watch, she found that the entire encounter, from the first darts to just now, was fifteen and a half minutes. Given that she couldn't hear the sound of boots on floor approaching, she could only presume that no one had passed through the corridor outside and spotted the unconscious guards. Once she was outside the room she popped the outer casing of the security panel before tweaking the wire configuration to deny future access.

She didn't believe that they could undo her work even if they did get inside but the time they spent trying to regain access to the central control hub room meant more resources away from their target room.

 _Time to get back to the others._ She straightened her appropriated uniform so it didn't look like she'd just attacked multiple people.

Given that she hadn't heard any explosions, she could take some solace in the fact that Alex had resisted his habit of using explosives to neutralize the hangers. Personally she figured that if he could somehow lock the mechanisms that opened and closed the doors then no ships would be able to leave unless armed with weapons capable of blasting a hole in them.

Such a move would be reckless and dangerous so it was unlikely that the Insurrectionists would try it unless forced to by some future development.

Hopefully by then it'd be too late.

 _ **SPARTAN Alex-Zero-Six-Nine's POV**_

 _Well, that was almost no fun at all,_ he thought as he made his way back to the office near the target room. _They really should take better care of those doors._

He'd managed to make it to the hangers easily enough and, when he'd arrived at the first one, a plan for neutralizing the door had already been decided. Getting anywhere near the controls would be impossible since there were people stationed there permanently and they likely knew who'd be taking over for them at the end of their shift. That only left for him to do was targeting the door mechanisms themselves and doing something to keep them from working right. So he'd picked up a tool box that was just sitting there and made it look like he was just your everyday maintenance guy coming by to check up on things. Fortunately, in order to sabotage anything, you needed to have at least a basic idea of how it worked, so the one time a local asked him what he was doing he was able to piece together a believable explanation. Either he'd been a good actor or the man just wasn't that interested in looking for trouble but in either case he'd managed to successfully loosen a few bolts and squeeze some rails. One by one he he'd done the same to the other hanger doors, making it so that if anyone tried to open them the mechanisms would either fall apart or do more damage to due to the strain of opposing forces.

It was subtle enough that Joy would probably be impressed with him.

Best of all he'd done it in such a way that it'd either be mistaken as natural wear and tear or just be written off as sloppy maintenance.

True there was a small possibility of someone being sharp enough to figure out that it was sabotage but hopefully by then such a revelation wouldn't do the Insurrectionists any good.

Turning a corner, he was pleased to see that Joy was waiting outside the office for him and had a smile on her face that looked like what one of the women at the base had worn when looking at her boyfriend. Unlike some of the others, he didn't let anything slip past him on the base, including the various interactions of the staff, so he knew that a boyfriend and a girlfriend were phase one on the path to becoming a mommy and daddy. However, thanks to his empathic ability, he knew there was no correlating emotion in effect in her mind, so he didn't think any more of it than he had Daisy's actions earlier.

Fortunately he didn't think that he'd need to master the skills of 'making out' since it was more likely that the direct approach would be the way to go on future missions.

"Report, you two," he said once the door was closed.

"Communications are down and it'll take at least an hour for them to get them back up," Joy reported with a quick but crisp salute.

"Confirmed that they're making nukes in the room. Everything's done in the one room rather than spread out over the entire base," Daisy reported, mimicking Joy in that regard. "Strange thing is that it sounded like making the nukes was only the first step in what needed to be done here. The scientist inside said they'd be waiting until the last two nukes were made before putting the armor into place. That doesn't match any nuclear weapon configuration that I'm familiar with."

"Or me. The Insurrectionists are up to something new," he said, unable to come up with a logical explanation for what Daisy had overheard.

"What about the hanger doors?" Joy asked, sounding like she wanted to know if he'd stuck with her no explosives rule.

"Tampered with the opening mechanisms so that they wouldn't work right without repairs," he replied, not letting himself sound affected one way or another. "No one is going anywhere."

"Then the stealth portion of the mission is over with?" she asked even though she already knew the answer.

"Yes. Gear up and get ready for breaching," he replied as he removed civilian clothing and accessories he'd been wearing before going over to his bag and putting the HUD helmet on.

It didn't take long for them to be ready and, with a quick check of their MA2B assault rifles, they were ready for the loud part of the mission. Each rifle had been fitted with a suppressor so they wouldn't wake up the entire base when used but that didn't mean much since, if the guards opened fire or someone in the room made a commotion, it'd wake everyone up anyway.

Still, every second of no one being the wiser was worth acquiring.

He took the lead as they left the room, heading for the guarded door at a brisk pace without crossing into each other's line of fire. Bringing his rifle up so he could look down the sight, he turned the corner and lined up the crosshairs with the head of the first guard. The man couldn't even raise his weapon to fire before a round was put through his head and the other one followed suit thanks to Joy's good marksmanship.

Taking up a defensive position in front of the door with Daisy, he knew Joy was going to work on the security lock while they stood ready to discourage any newcomers.

"Lock disabled. Door primed," Joy said, stepping away from the door.

"Do it" he said as he aimed the business end of his MA2B at the door.

With a single slap the door opened and they followed standard breaching procedure: he went to the left, Daisy to the right and Joy covered the center. Only two of the room's occupants tried to fight back but quick bursts from Joy and Daisy's rifles solved that problem and provided a visual example to discourage the remaining three.

"Hands above your head! Now!" he ordered as the team focused their weapons on the surviving group of three.

Of the three only one hesitated to raise his arms but closer proximity to the MA2B's muzzle got him on the right track.

"We clear?" he asked Daisy, who was sweeping the room for any potential threats.

"Clear," Daisy said before returning to cover their three captives.

"The three of you have same amount of minutes to explain what you're doing here and everything you know about potential targets," he said in a command tone of voice towards the captives. "After that I won't be asking politely."

Fear warred on the faces of the captives, fear of the people right in front of them and fear of the people they answered to in the Insurrectionist chain of command, with neither side gaining decisive dominance. Were they here under duress or were they 'true believers'? If it was the former then there was a chance that he could win their cooperation with promises of protection and leniency in the courts. If it was the latter, he'd have to watch for attempts at suicide in order to keep what they knew out of enemy hands.

Eventually three minutes ticked by and none of the trio had spoken, much less provided an answer.

It was time for plan B.

"Sierra-zero-seven-zero? Access their computers and look over the files," he ordered Joy without giving away anything valuable, like her name. "Prioritize starting with the most recent updates and moving back. Find me some answers."

"Right away, Sierra-zero-six-nine," Joyce said, clicking the safety on her rifle before slinging it over her shoulder.

As Joy moved towards the largest computer setup in the room Daisy shifted her position to allow for a more complete coverage of the captives while he moved to cover the door. While he didn't expect security forces to be advancing on the room this soon, he'd bet good money that it'd happen in the next twenty minutes. Between the shutting down of the communications and the sabotaging of the hanger doors, the Insurrectionists would have to be idiots not to realize that the enemy had infiltrated their base. That would lead them to converge on key rooms in the base and this would definitely be one of them.

"Looks like they were working on a nuclear weapon but not a conventional nuke. Not by a long shot," Joy said while she continued to work on the computer. "The weapon called for six nukes to be contained within a lithium triteride casing. They haven't come up with a name for the weapon yet but their projections of its destructive force indicate it'll be capable of destruction on a state-wide level, maybe more. That's what the lithium triteride is for, to focus the energy of the blast back in on itself, thus multiplying its destructive force."

"With that much firepower they could obliterate several colonies with just a few of these new weapons. Maybe even make them bold enough to strike deep into the inner colonies," he said with concern about the potential damage that could be done. "Any idea on how close they are to finishing a prototype?"

"Like Sierra-zero-two-three said, the files indicate that they're still waiting on what they need to build the final two nukes. Once that's done all they'll need is to assemble it all and they'll have one ready for testing," Joy replied without looking away from her work. "In fact what they have so far is right in that clean room over there."

Glancing in the direction his teammate had indicated, he did spot the clean room but, while functional, it had been sloppily put together, making seeing inside difficult. What he could make out indicated a size roughly comparable to a Warthog's tire in diameter but it was shaped more like a hexagon.

Made sense if there were supposed to be six nukes involved.

"Anything in the files about an estimated time to completion?" he asked, wanting to know what sort of timetable they were working with.

"No but from the looks of the containers and the equipment in the room, I'd put final assembly within the next week. Maybe sooner," Joy replied tapping at the keyboard.

"Then it's time to call in support," he said before reaching into his equipment pack to extract the beacon they'd been issued. Flipping it on he punched in the activation code, causing it to go live.

"Don't know when they'll get here but it should be soon," he said, resuming his defensive posture near the door. "Until then we hold this position."

"I'm copying as many of the files as we can to an external hard drive," Joy said as she retrieved the specified item from her pack. "If they can't get to us through the door, they might try to blank slate the database."

He didn't say anything to this since he figured that it was a good move. While he didn't have any doubt that a UNSC ship full of troopers would be able seize the base, there was some doubt about whether or not they be able to do so before critical intel was destroyed. Better to make copies that ONI could examine later than lose everything.

"Zero-Two-Three, we're going to restrain the prisoners and stash them in the back of the room," he said, lowering his rifle and turning towards Daisy. "If a firefight breaks out I'd rather they not get hurt or get in the way."

A nod of confirmation was what he got before the two of them herded the captives to the rear of the room before Daisy shouldered her weapon and took out a handful of zip-tie restraints. One by one the trio had their arms and legs tied at every major joint, making it impossible for the scientists to move in any way other than wiggling on the floor. He would've called it overkill considering the prisoners were non-coms but he wouldn't oppose a little extra caution.

With nothing to keep covered the two of them took positions on either side of the door, waiting the first sign that they were about to receive some company. Mentally tallying their ammunition, he was confident that they could kill two thirds of the people in the base before running out. With the hanger doors locked in place, the Insurrectionists wouldn't be able to get reinforced that way, leaving only pressure doors for moonwalking but that would only provide a nice bottleneck for his team.

The greatest advantage the Insurrectionists had was the fact that no one had known what this moon base was being used for up until now. Now that its location had been compromised with enemy forces already on the inside, they'd be safer initiating the facility's self-destruct but they wouldn't.

Not with all the project data and materials present.

They would at least make a determined effort at reclaiming the facility before going with the option of last resort.

 _Let's see how determined they can be,_ he thought as he heard the sound of booted feet coming closer.

Looking to Daisy, he directed her gaze to the button that'd open the door before holding up five fingers, counting down before making a fist. On that signal the door was opened and the two of them took aim down range, opening fire on the approaching security forces.

In a battle of wills, no one could outlast a SPARTAN.

 _ **SPARTAN-Zero-Two-Three aka Daisy's POV**_

"Think they've given up yet?" she asked as she slapped a new mag into her rifle.

"Not just yet. We've only fended off three waves so far," Alex replied, keeping eyes locked on the hallway outside the room. "I'm betting on at least one more before they decide to change tactics."

"Like what?" she asked, taking aim down the hallway, looking for any sign of trouble.

"Gas grenades. Cutting the lights for night vision combat. Using a power surge to blow the electronics in the room and distract us while a team rushes the door," he replied, rattling off a few possibilities. "Depends on who's in charge and what they have to work with."

Considering that this was supposed to be a secret base for what was obviously supposed to be an important project, she anticipated a small security force with perhaps one or two senior operatives. Add to that minimal armaments and this location would be depending on reinforcements if it were ever found or an effective means of pacification. However, with the hanger doors not working and limited means of entry from the moon's surface, the three of them could feasibly hold the base for quite a while.

Much longer than the UNSC forces homing in on the beacon would need.

"We've got trouble!" Joy said as her pattern of typing changed. "An outside source is trying to access the base network and they'll succeed in less than three minutes unless I can come up with some inspired programming."

"Is the attack human or artificial?" Alex asked without looking away from the door.

"From the speed of the commands and adaptability of their coding, I'd say A.I. Possibly more than one," Joy replied, multi-tasking on two fronts.

"Looks like Insurrectionist reinforcements were closer than I thought they were," Alex said with annoyance at the unwelcome development.

"Ships?" she asked, remembering that Joy had classified the threat as an external hack to the network.

"Most likely," he replied, his eyes hinting at a racing mind. "At least two since I've never heard of more than one A.I. per ship before."

From what she'd read of the intel on the Insurrectionist, they mostly used retrofitted and armed civilian ships in their fleet, with a few stolen UNSC craft thrown in when enough sleeper agents were aboard one to steal it. The worst case scenario would be two stolen UNSC destroyers with compromised A.I.s helping with ship operations, allowing for a skeleton crew. In that case they'd have enough room for quite a few troops, as well as boarding craft that could punch through the hanger doors, overwhelming them in one push. If their UNSC reinforcements were close enough they might also choose to bombard the base from a distance to destroy all evidence of what'd been going on there. If destroying the base wasn't an option, they could very well manage to hold off the UNSC reinforcements until their landing parties could secure vital assets. Once the assets were on their ships, they could mop up and then bug out.

All in all she would say that their ability to hold the base and successfully deliver the intel to the UNSC was tenuous at best.

"Stop repelling them," Alex ordered, turning away from the door. "Let them in and then open a com-channel."

"What for?" Joy asked, sounding puzzled by the orders.

"To find out what we're up against and buy some time," he replied, getting behind Joy near the terminal.

With a nod Joy stopped her counter hacking efforts and worked to open a line to the outside force. It didn't take long for the screen to change it a vid-window showing the face of a woman in her late forties, with brown hair along with flecks of grey. Clad in a uniform that bore a resemblance to that of a UNSC officer, the coloring was more indicative of the URF and was sealed in place by a patch depicting a crimson clenched fist.

"This is Lieutenant General Irene Henderson of the United Rebel Front to UNSC forces," Lt. General Henderson said in an angry yet commanding tone. "You are ordered to surrender immediately. Do so and I will guarantee your safety and fair treatment. Refuse and I will take back the base by force."

 _Not one to waste time on small talk is she?_ she thought, having predicted that the terrorist would be a bit more long winded and threatening.

"I think you might have a harder time of that then you think, Lt. General," Alex said from his position in front of the terminal. "The hanger doors are locked and the airlocks are strategically unsound for gaining entry. Besides that I doubt your arrival here is expected and that means you've got a limited window to do anything before UNSC ships arrive with questions. Do you really think you can retake this base before they arrive?"

"I think you'll find that Tribute Control is remarkably blind at the moment, young man," Lt. General Henderson said, sounding confident of that fact. "We have people everywhere and those that are not one of us can be bought. We have all the time in the world to take back what is ours."

She had to frown at that news but still wasn't convinced that all was lost.

They still had their beacon after all.

"Maybe. Maybe not," Alex said, not showing a bit of weakness. "You're not the only one with an ace up the sleeve."

"If you're referring to your beacon then you made a serious miscalculation in where you chose to activate it," Lt. General Henderson said, sounding determined to win the conversation as well as the conflict. "The lab was specially shielded in order to keep any stray radiation or energy from popping up on ship sensors. It's easily capable of cutting the range of your beacon's signal in half. Any aid you were expecting will not be coming."

That was not good.

"Even if they did come, I think they would find themselves more than a little outmatched," Lt. General said with a smug smile on her face. "I suggest you access the exterior cameras of the moon base."

Alex looked to Joy and nodded.

A few command strokes later a second vid-window appeared with the feed split into four squares showing the view outside the base.

What they saw didn't seem possible.

Three UNSC destroyers bearing the crimson fist of the United Rebel Front, four civilian ships roughly two thirds the size of the destroyers but outfitted with both armor as well as weapons and finally a squadron of fighter craft. This did not fit neatly with the latest intel on the URF but it did confirm that this project that they'd found was of serious importance to warrant such a force.

"As you can see, any ships that might've been drawn in by your beacon would've been outmanned and outgunned upon arrival. I urge you, soldier, to consider the realities of the situation," Lt. General Henderson said with the authority of her command. "I have more than enough soldiers to overwhelm you, you have no means by which you can alert your superiors and even if you somehow informed them of the situation, they would not be able to match my ships in number. Your only hope for survival is surrender."

While she might've had much confidence in her skills and the skills of her teammates, even SPARTANS wouldn't win a direct fight with an enemy force of this size. The entire mission had hinged on them locating the base and then blocking any distress calls before having UNSC support arrive to take custody of it all. While they might've managed the first and the second, the unforeseen shielding of their current position and the size of the URF fleet pretty much put them between a rock and a hard place.

Still, Alex was team leader and she'd follow his lead.

"Very well. We surrender," Alex said surprising the hell out of her considering the surprise victories he'd managed during training with the instructors. "However I must insist on you being present on the first transport down. I trust you to honor your word regarding our safety and treatment. You and NO ONE else."

"If you throw ALL your weapons down the hall so base security can confiscate them then I will agree to your request," Lt. General Henderson said after a few seconds of consideration. "Trust is a two way street, after all."

"Send two people to pick up the weapons," Alex said, giving nothing away. "They'll be there when your people arrive."

"I'll be waiting for confirmation," Henderson said with a nod. "Over and out."

The vid-screen showing the Insurrectionist leader went dark but, just to be on the safe side, Joy closed it before putting up a loose barrier to prevent covert eavesdropping.

"I assume you've got a plan OTHER than surrendering?" Joy asked, turning to look at Alex while sounding like she'd relieve him of command if she didn't like his response.

"I do but we've got to move fast," Alex replied, sounding like anything but a soon to be prisoner of the URF.

No, he sounded like he always did right before he pulled victory from the jaws of defeat.

 _ **Shuttle from the URF Destroyer Agamemnon, Lt. General Henderson's POV**_

"Are you sure this is worth the risk, General?" Colonel Jones, the leader of her ground forces, asked as the pilot guided them to the newly restored hanger of the moon base. "We know nothing about these operatives. We can't trust them!"

"They've complied with my terms thus far, Jones. They've disarmed themselves and base security has put them in restraints," she said, not concerned in the least. "With your men added to the mix it'd be suicide to try anything."

"We only have their word that they've discarded all their weapons," Jones countered, not willing to abandon his position just yet. "Besides that we don't know how long they've been at the base. They could have the entire place rigged to blow!"

"Unlikely. As a recall the Merlin's Wings was scheduled to make a delivery a few hours ago," she said, dismissing the man's paranoia. "It's far more probable that they infiltrated the ship and used it to get into the base. As for them retaining hidden weapons, even if you're right it'd be impossible for them to kill us all before dying themselves. The gaps in their information brought about their defeat."

Still, she would, along with the assigned interrogator, attempt to learn how ONI had learned of Project Surtur and how much they knew. Depending on the amount of leaked information, they might have to shelve the project for the time being until surveillance of the needed resources lightened. The others wouldn't like it but she was confident that she would be able to persuade them of the necessity of patience rather than recklessness. As much as she wanted to free the Outer Colonies of the UEG to create their own future, she was not foolish enough to think that the URF's goals would be achieved in her lifetime.

At present the URF and other similar groups did not possess the resources to fight the UNSC head on but rather they were left with little choice but to use guerilla tactics. Surgical strikes at important people and important locations that were vital to maintaining the Inner Colony's grip on their Outer counterparts. Sadly the resources that were available to both the UNSC and the UEG made replacing both people along with places only a matter of time. That was why she believed that they needed to bide their time until they could openly wage war with the UNSC on equal terms and serve them a bill that they could not pay.

Only then would they give up control of the Outer Colonies.

Looking through the windshield of the shuttle as she watched the newly repaired hanger doors slide aside to admit the craft she was in, she wondered about various things. The first and most obvious would be how the UNSC had learned enough about Project Surtur to dispatch three agents to infiltrate the moon base. All communiqués had been conducted using paper letters written to look like normal correspondence between relatives with a unique cipher to translate into the REAL message. They'd also compartmentalized information between the groups assigned to acquire specific items so that even they wouldn't know what they'd be used for. While it would certainly be nice if the three captured operatives would be able to tell her how the UNSC, or more likely ONI, was able to discover the truth, she very much doubted that the particulars had been told to the agents. At the next URF meeting she would have to propose that a new method of communication be constructed after determining all the flaws of the current one.

Another matter that would need to come under review would be the internal security of their installations. While the final amount of time hadn't been tallied, the intruders should've been detected in under a minute but instead trouble had only been detected with the blocking of communications. They'd likely have to create a program by which facial recognition was conducted regularly on everyone in the base and those whose faces couldn't be clearly seen would be especially scrutinized. Additional security technology would also need to be acquired despite the potential flags it would raise with the UNSC and ONI.

This could NOT happen again.

Feeling the thump of the landing gear touching down, she turned away from the windshield and began to make her way to the side hatch. While it was true that she had not needed to honor the UNSC operative's request for her presence, she did concede that in the hands of any other member of her forces summary execution was a possibility. Not many in the URF could maintain their composure and discipline, given the lives they now led, with more than a few willing to vent their anger or their outright hatred upon any representative of the enemy. However she knew that those three operatives would be more useful as captives than as dead symbols left out in the open for someone to find. They'd already killed dozens of UNSC soldiers and ONI operatives and it hadn't had even a small effect on the position of their superiors. However, if they could work over these three, get even ONE of them to crack, they could gain valuable intelligence about what the enemy knew about the URF.

Perhaps even the identities of spies hidden in their ranks.

A wild thought occurred to her about possibly converting these three to their cause and sending them back to their master with just the right amount of subterfuge to negate suspicion. It didn't last long because she knew that if there was one thing the URF and the UNSC had in common it was that the higher their rank, the harder they were to break. Even if they did succeed in making a believer out of one of them, there'd likely be one too many psychological cracks to allow their superiors to place them someplace useful.

As the hatch opened she could see that the personnel of the moon base had assembled, like a full honor guard receiving their supreme leader. No doubt the base commander was trying to salvage his dismal handling of the intrusion by playing to her ego.

It wouldn't work.

The struggle they were in the midst of against the UNSC and UEG was very real and VERY serious and anyone who didn't act accordingly would either shape up or be shipped out.

Once she cleared the shuttle her eyes fell upon a circle of guards and in the middle were three people, a man and two women, clad in gear she recognized as belonging to ONI black ops. Judging from their sizes and builds, they couldn't have been much older than their early or middle twenties, impressing her a bit that they'd succeeded in getting as far as they had. If her communications officer hadn't noticed the abrupt cessation of information from the moon base, they would likely have never known that anything was wrong.

Looking around she easily spotted the two men who'd been ordered to take custody of the intruders' gear and keep it away from their former owners. While her first inclination would be to question the intruders, she often found it informative to inspect a person's belongings. Even with things that were the same with every ONI operative, humans had a habit of personalizing whatever they kept on their person for an extended period of time.

"This is all their equipment?" she asked the two soldiers even though she already was pretty sure of the answer.

"Yes, sir," the man on the right said, opening the sack the gear was contained in.

Looking inside she saw the usual assortment of tools required for infiltration along with two MA2B assault rifles. She imagined that the other bag contained similar items but, just to be sure, she'd have her people examine everything for any hidden features or compartments. Taking out one of the rifles, she tested its weight, the feel of the hand grips and then popped the magazine to take a look at the rounds inside. On the whole there was nothing really unique about the weapon so she could only presume that this was the trio's first field op since completing their training.

 _A pity they won't be getting any better,_ she thought as she put the rifle back in the bag.

Turning to the three, who were following her movements with their eyes, she decided to get their initial discussion underway before having them escorted aboard the shuttle.

"As you requested I have come in person in order to make sure that you are taken into custody unharmed and treated fairly," she said as she approached them but remained out of reach. "I cannot guarantee, however, if you will ever be released in the future, even if all the URF's goals have been achieved. Such is the price of fighting a war."

"True. There's another thing that's true about every war but I don't think you're going to like it," the young man said, sounding completely at ease despite the situation he and his team were in.

"Unlike some people I believe knowledge must be accepted regardless of whether or not it is too a person's liking," she said, being honest with her prisoner. "Rejecting the truth can prove to be a tactical error."

"A good point of view to have," the young man said with equal honesty.

"Still, it's a touch hypocritical to speak of the truth but keep your helmets on concealing your identities," she said before looking to three of the guards closest to the prisoners. "Remove their helmets."

The remaining guards arrayed about the hanger brought their weapons up in a sharper at ready position but that was only logical. The ONI operatives had only one chance to force an escape opportunity and that would be to take prisoner the men about to remove their helmets before issuing a demand. That demand most likely would be for the use of the shuttle to make a getaway, even though they had to know that her fleet outside could easily shoot them down before they got very far.

What they didn't realize, though, was that each and every member of the URF was ready to lay down their lives in the name of their cause. In fact it was clearly stated once their trial period concluded that, in a hostage situation, their lives were expendable. Those that accepted this truth were allowed to rise higher in the ranks while those that weren't willing to give up their lives as needed were kept in low value areas. By doing so, even if they were caught, they wouldn't have any useful information to share with their UNSC interrogators and wouldn't harm the URF's efforts in the least.

In short, whether they made it out of the base on the shuttle or got perforated along with their hostages, they were both equally dead.

As she saw the clasps that kept the helmets secure undone and the sides of the headgear gripped, she waited with mild anticipation to see just what these infiltrators looked like.

However not once since she learned of the infiltration did she expect what was revealed next.

Instead of faces that you'd associate with people who were in their twenties, the intruders had faces of youths barely into their teens. It shocked everyone and, oddly enough, the thing to snap them out of it was the beeping everyone knew came from someone's watch that'd been set to give the alert under certain conditions.

"Looks like talking time is over," the brown haired leader of the infiltration team said with a lopsided smile. "Killing time is here."

With a snap the restraints that should've been impossible to break did and, with speed she'd never seen before, the guards between her and the prisoners went from living to dead. She was just about to give the order to open fire while retreating to the shuttle when an impossibly strong hand clamped down on her arm, halting her movement. Then, with a twirl and a twist, her arm and the person gripping it had been forced behind her, with former positioned in such a way that struggling would only hurt more.

After that it was complete chaos as every armed member of the URF in the room tried their luck at shooting the intruders, both the ones surgically subduing one person after another as well as her captor. Naturally, due to her rank, those trying to get a bead on the young man hesitated and whoever had trained him had done their job well. Not once did the infiltrator leave his head exposed so that the agitated men of the URF could feel confident in taking a shot. What didn't seem possible, though, was the fact that sometime after he'd gotten behind her he'd stolen the M6G sidearm she kept holstered and loaded on her hip at all times.

Even while keeping his head from being exposed he was somehow managing to fire off shots, picking off those combatants on the walkways twenty feet off the floor one after another.

She'd never seen anything like it.

In all her years, first with the UNSC and then with the URF, she'd never seen a group this size taken apart so quickly or so efficiently. The men under her and those assigned to the base might as well have been raw recruits for how well they did against their three opponents.

By the time it was done everyone but she and the intruders were dead.

"Status?" the young man restraining her asked his teammates.

"Clear and unharmed," the dirty blonde on the right said once she finished checking corners on her side of the hanger.

"Clear and minor flesh wound. Guy got lucky," the golden blonde said on the left, being extra thorough with her corner checks before turning to face her leader.

"No such thing. Let's move," her captor said before turning her around and pushing her towards the entrance hatch to the shuttle.

"You'll never get away! Even with me aboard they'll never let you get away!" she declared, making it clear that she still had some spirit in her.

"We'll see," her captor said, giving nothing away with the tone of his voice.

 _ **Lt. General Henderson's Shuttle, One Minute Later**_

 _ **Alex's POV**_

"Time!" he demanded even as he set a course for Tribute.

"Two minutes, thirty seconds," Joy said from the co-pilot's chair. "Also the Insurrectionist ships are moving to intercept."

That was anticipated.

When they left the hanger without following any transmission protocols, the people on those ships would've gotten suspicious. They'd attempted to make contact three times but he kept Daisy from responding since the lack of additional info would cause them to hesitate in choosing their next course of action. They'd need that time in order to gain additional distance and increase the odds of getting to their destination.

"Increasing to maximum thrust," he said, having kept it to standard cruising speed since any faster would've only helped the Insurrectionist crew members choose faster. "As soon as we clear the moon I'll chart the fastest course to Casbah."

"You'll never make it there," Henderson said, sounding quite confident. "My ships are faster than this shuttle. You won't even clear the moon before they disable your engines and drag you in."

If they were judging matters strictly based on the performance capabilities and estimated skills of the respective pilots, capture would've been inevitable. As much as he'd been drilled on piloting shuttles and other craft, the ship didn't have his enhanced speed and reflexes so, while he could move quicker than any pilot the Insurrectionists had, the vehicle he was operating wouldn't keep up. With that sort of limit in place, evasion wouldn't get the shuttle very far and speed was something the Insurrectionist ships had the advantage in for this situation.

"T-minus sixty seconds," Joy said even as she fulfilled the duties of co-pilot.

"Engaging in territory seizure evasion tactics," he said as he began to shift directions while still gaining ground towards Tribute.

"Longswords incoming," Daisy said from the sensor console she sat at. "Five total."

Made sense.

The armaments of a Destroyer wouldn't do them much good until they got close enough to use the point defense auto-cannons. Anything more and they'd destroy the shuttle along with everyone on board. However the Longswords had the speed and the correct armaments to disable their shuttle without endangering the people aboard it.

"ETA until they're within weapons range?" he asked Daisy.

"Sixty-five seconds," Daisy replied after a few taps at her console.

That was longer than the countdown Joy was giving him but he still wanted a little more breathing room to work with.

"This ship armed with anything?" he asked willing to take anything at this point.

"Two auto-cannons and a single missile," Daisy replied, not sounding optimistic at the news.

"Yield?" he asked, obviously referring to the missile.

"Not enough to take out five Longswords in one go if that's what you're asking," Daisy replied, anticipating his intent.

"It doesn't have to take them all out. It just has to slow them down," he said before looking over at Joy. "It's on you. Remember the limited arms training we went through and that surprise that let us get a win over Blue Team?"

"Understood," Joy said as she brought the weapons online and changed the setting to manual aiming.

"You're insane. No matter how good you are, you'll never hit anything by aiming manually," Henderson declared incredulously from her position bound to one of the cockpit's chairs. "There's a reason we rely on targeting systems these days."

"You've never seen her shoot," he said with a smile beneath his helmet.

Indeed, the only person who could be called better than Joy when it came to sharpshooting was Linda and it was always a near thing. A few more years of training and experience might just close that gap entirely, if not let his teammate overtake the SPARTAN sniper altogether.

He would not tell Linda that, though. Sometimes when she shot at her targets in training it was to wound, not kill. She liked shooting him. It was best to not give her more reasons to do so and be creative in her shot placement.

Doing what he could to keep up evasion tactics while also provide a steady ship for Joy to fire from, he focused on doing his job and allowed the others to do their job. He felt when the missile fired from the shuttle and mentally calculated how long it would take to reach its target based on the technical specifications that had been part of their education on Reach. He also added in the average speed most Longsword pilots liked to fly at in situations like this, using the whole 'trains leaving stations at different times and at different speeds when will they meet' formula. He had a good idea of where the missile would need to go if it was to achieve the desired effect and he trusted Joy to know as well.

"…Three…Two…One…NOW." Joy said before firing the auto-cannons.

Then, just like the battle with Blue Team, the pilots of the Longswords got the surprise of their lives.

Back during training Chief Mendez had put them through limited arms training in order to teach them how to make efficient use of scarce resources. Depending on the mission, they wouldn't be able to rely on a full load out or to have an armory close by that they could resupply at. However the mission could not be aborted due to lack of bullets or grenades. So the various teams took turns, one attacking while the other defended, left to their own devices to figure out how best to succeed with whatever they were given. In order to make sure that each subsequent team after the first couldn't just copy what they did, the Chief made sure that each box of resources was different. Sometimes you got two full clips of rifle rounds and a grenade but other times you did not.

When they'd been pitted against John and Blue Team, he knew that no one expected his team to come out on top. It'd been made abundantly clear in training that John's team was the standard, the example to follow, so at most his team was expected to come close.

He wasn't willing to settle for that.

So after peeking to get a look at how Blue Team had spread themselves out to defend their position he hit upon an idea. It was crazy, something Joy made clear to him at the time, but it also held the potential to knock Blue Team on their butts and provide them the opening they needed to win. He'd taken the single grenade and, without removing the pin, thrown it straight down the middle towards the opposing team. Most people would think that this was a waste of a perfectly good grenade but that was where the second part of his plan came into play. At the same time he threw the grenade Joy leaned out of cover with the rifle and took careful aim at the spot the grenade would need to be. Then, with a single shot, she detonated the grenade just as it reached the spot where the explosive force would reach four of the five members of Blue Team. The cover the opposing team was hidden behind was arranged in such a way that a single grenade wouldn't have been able to hit them all if you just threw it like normal.

Using his bit of improvisation the shockwave and the simulated shrapnel would leave lethal levels of paint on some while injuring the others.

The moment the grenade detonated he charged forward, his team following behind him, with Joy using the rifle to keep John, who'd been clear of the blast, from stopping them. Those who'd been hit with a lethal amount of paint wouldn't stop them since they'd been instructed to mimic the results of such a hit. That'd left him and Daisy to split off to deal with those who'd only received injury level damage and neutralize them. With certain limbs and muscle compromised, Fred and Linda hadn't been able to put up much of a fight without violating the terms that Chief Mendez had set. The real challenge had been defeating John, who even though he'd been outnumbered, had managed to hold his own for almost twenty minutes before a complex feint strategy let Joy get the drop on him.

Everyone had been both shocked and impressed by the victory.

Too bad it was the last one they had against Blue Team from that day onward.

 _Let's see them top this,_ he thought with a grin as he watched the rounds from the shuttle's auto-cannons detonated the missile... right in the middle of the enemy Longsword formation.

Now some might wonder how this could've come to pass and make people think surely the pilots would've shot it down before reaching them or veered clear of its path. The reason his plan worked all boiled down to two things: Joy hadn't used the targeting system of the shuttle before firing and she hadn't been aiming directly for one of the Longswords. Like most fighter craft, the Longswords had a system in place that let the pilots know when someone had a target lock on them and, with the exception of a few excellent pilots, everyone else relied on its warning. Combined with the missile not heading directly for one of them and the pilots had only slightly steered away from its estimated flight path while maintaining pursuit of the shuttle.

All this he had been counting on and, as a result, none of the pursuers were outside the blast radius of the missile.

"Three Longswords destroyed, two disabled," Daisy reported from her station.

"Time?" he asked Joy one more time even though he was pretty sure it was going to happen soon.

"Two seconds!" Joy replied, revealing the remaining time was a great deal less than he'd thought.

At 'zero' a flash of near blinding light flooded into the cockpit but they had less than a second to comprehend this before a shockwave slammed into the shuttle, knocking them for a loop. Screens flickered violently, a few producing sparks even as some smoke seeped out of gaps in the wall. Doing his best to right the spacecraft and get them clear of the danger zone, his success only came in spurts with impacts on the outer hull knocking the ship off course randomly. It took a full ten seconds before something resembling smooth flying returned but even then he knew that they'd need to get down to Tribute ASAP before the shuttle systems gave out.

However there was one question he wanted answered first.

"What the hell was that?" he asked, looking at Joy and then Daisy. "That was definitely not 'a little distraction'!"

"Trying to access the rear sensors and cameras," Daisy replied, tapping away at her console to get some answers.

When the typing stopped he waited for her to explain but nothing was said.

Turning to look at her, he could only see that her gaze was completely focused on the screen in front of her and when he reached out with his empathic abilities all he felt was numb disbelief.

"Take the controls," he ordered Joy as he got out of his chair and moved to see for himself what'd floored Daisy so completely.

The sensors informed him that of all the ships that'd been part of the Insurrectionist fleet, only the two destroyers remained with the others having been completely destroyed. The destroyers were also seriously damaged if the debris sensor contacts surrounding them were anything to go by, making it unlikely that they'd be able to slipstream out of the system. However it was when he looked to Tribute's moon that he realized what Daisy had been shocked into silence about. Sensor image told him one thing but it was only when he compared to the spotty video feed from the sole functional rear camera that the shuttle had that he appreciated the truth.

A large section of the lunar surface had been blown out into space, leaving a mostly circular crater with jagged edges behind, with bits of melted rock scattered about glowing bright enough to be visible. Anyone who had a decently powerful telescope on Tribute would be able to make out the new crater when it came around and, if they were as familiar with the moon as he was with a gun, they'd spot the change immediately. From what he could see most of the lunar mass that'd been blown into space had been vaporized by the heat of the blast, with the remainder had slammed into the Insurrectionist ships. Combined with the radiation that'd likely reached that far and it was no surprise that the fleet had been reduced to two, with the survivors barely in a condition to keep their crew alive.

Needless to say this was WAY more than he'd been expecting when he'd told Joy to start up the nuclear weapon the scientists had created, set the timer for the estimated amount of time it'd take to get clear of the blast and then seal the doors so that it couldn't be defused. The plan had been to feign surrender, seize the shuttle and the Lt. General, and then get to minimum safe distance before the timer on the weapon hit zero. Since the weapon was nuclear in nature, he'd planned for the EMP it gave off to scramble the systems of the ships long enough for the shuttle to make it eighty percent of the way to Tribute. Once they got that far ahead of pursuit, the probability of the Insurrectionist forces catching up would be small even with the speed difference between the shuttle and the ships. Then they'd make it planetside, where they'd travel to the nearest UNSC facility and make contact with Commander Thompson, who'd briefed them on the mission in the first place.

He'd thought up contingencies for possible obstacles but he'd never even considered this development.

"I thought you said the blast would take out the base and MAYBE some of the surrounding area," he said, turning to look at Joy.

"I read the file the scientists made on projected blast radius and destruction potential. The math looked good," Joy said with a bit of irritation. "If he were still alive I would call into question the man's credentials as a scientist."

He trusted Joy. If she said that the math had pointed to another outcome then it had and the only other possibility was that the scientists involved had made a SERIOUS mistake somewhere. Whether it was the overall theory they were attempting to put into practice or the means by which it was applied in real life, he didn't know. All he did know was that the Insurrectionist prototype had done MUCH more than he'd wanted and there was no way that it'd be easy to cover up.

"I think you should be the one to explain this during the debriefing," Daisy said, coming out of her shock and regaining her military composure.

"It was your plan, after all," Joy said from the copilot's seat.

For a moment he considered protesting since he knew that the reaction of their superiors would hardly be favorable but Joy's point stayed his hand.

It had been his plan and as team leader he had to take responsibility for the consequences.

That was one of the things that the Chief had hammered into them during training whenever a team leader tried to dump the blame for failure on a subordinate. While the subordinate was not completely free of blame, it was the team leader's job to know what those under him could do and how they would react under certain circumstances. If a subordinate did something that caused the team to fail, it was because the team leader failed to perceive the signs that it would happen beforehand and take action to prevent it.

To him, taking responsibility for ones victories also meant you were obligated to take responsibility for your failures.

Anyone who refused to take responsibility for their mistakes could not be trusted or relied upon.

He would never be that sort of person.


	7. New lessons and classes in session

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the copyrighted materials contained herein. They are the rightful property of their respective creators and/or associated companies. I make no profit from this whatsoever and I have no intention of changing this at any point in the future. I write because it's fun and because there are people who enjoy reading my work. Therefore it would be greatly appreciated if no legal action were taken against me. I can promise you that nothing you could get from me will come even close to paying off your legal fees.

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 _ **Briefing Room, Reach, Doctor Catherine Halsey's POV**_

"He certainly knows how to make a first impression," she mused as she finished reading the report on the mission Zero-Two-Three, Zero-Six-Nine and Zero-Seven-Zero had been sent on.

"That's putting it mildly, doctor," Commander Thompson said sardonically from his chair at the head of the table. "The blast was visible from Tribute. I hear the people in ONI Public Disclosure are scrambling around like crazy people trying to piece together a cover story the civvies will swallow. Needless to say I want to hear from your SPARTANs directly their explanation for blowing up a chunk of a moon."

She wanted to hear the answers herself but, based on the reports filed by the UNSC assets on the planet and the ships that were the first to respond, she had a theory. The captain of the UNSC frigate Fate's Accord stated that they found two badly damaged destroyers that had been previously stolen by the URF. There had also been enough debris fragments to suggest additional smaller ships that hadn't been durable enough to survive the blast that'd damaged the destroyers. There was no sure number of how many ships had been destroyed but, if it'd been four or more, then she could understand the need for extraordinary measures.

As for stirring up a storm inside ONI, she knew that all too well since she'd already received a message from the program oversight committee stating the need for 'restraint' on future missions. That was understandable since her SPARTANS were meant to be a secret detachment of soldiers that operated off the grid and left as little trace of their existence as possible. Given the particulars of the program and the desire to maintain the element of surprise for as long as possible, it was no surprise that they'd be upset.

Still, there was the unexpected gift Alex's team had brought back with them in the form of a high ranking member of the URF, Lt. General Irene Henderson.

The woman had just been a colonel when she'd defected from the UNSC six years ago but in that time she'd managed to ascend the ranks of the URF until she was just below the big three.

With her capture, along with the capture of Watts, the UNSC had the potential to deal a mortal blow to the URF allowing them to redistribute resources elsewhere.

To places like Harvest.

Due to the nature of the mission and the need for secrecy, the team of three hadn't been present for the reveal involving the Covenant and it would be handled after their debriefing. The space surrounding Harvest was still too hot to send in ships but, given the sensor scans and video recordings brought back by the CMA Heracles, there was little reason to go back there. The planet was under organized bombardment by the Covenant ships and it was clear that they didn't intend to stop until it was all reduced to rubble and molten glass.

Nevertheless, she expected that both the UNSC brass and ONI would have forces dispatched there eventually in an effort to retake the planet while also gaining valuable intelligence on the enemy. Even if the forces they sent into retake Harvest failed, so long as a handful of ships made it back they'd gain valuable tactical data giving them a better idea of what they were up against. All she'd heard thus far was plasma weaponry and some sort of shielding but, given her expertise, she expected that she'd be approached for consultation eventually.

Hearing the door to the room open, she watched as Alex came in with Daisy and Joyce following in behind him. After giving both her and Thompson a salute that the man returned they took their seats at the table, ready to give their reports while also answering any questions. None of them looked like they'd been injured on their mission but that was to be expected given their abilities and the training they'd received from Chief Mendez, along with the other instructors.

"Welcome back, Zero-Six-Nine," Commander Thompson said formally, beginning the debriefing.

"Good to be back, sir," Alex said with an acknowledging nod.

"This meeting is to debrief you on your mission as well as inform you of a recent development that will determine future missions," Thompson said as he activated the holo-display in the table, bringing up the mission specifics. "Your official mission was to tail the Insurrectionist operatives when they stole a target component and follow them back to the main assembly point before using the beacon to signal UNSC to move in. Now every soldier knows that no plan survives first contact with the enemy but I'm going to need you to explain your… unconventional tactics so I can explain things to the oversight committee. So let's take it from the top from when your mission officially began to when you arrived at the UNSC base on Tribute."

For the next house and a half Alex explained everything that happened without going so far into detail so as to bog the briefing down with irrelevant information. She learned how they'd waited for the thieves to show up, snuck aboard the Merlin's Wings and travelled with it to the marked container's destination. Thompson was writing notes just as she was on facts that would need to be followed up on afterwards but, for the most part, the mission had proceeded as expected.

It wasn't until Alex got to the point where the team adopted disguises that Thompson chose to speak up.

"You willingly chose to remove your helmets and don civilian uniforms?" Thompson asked, sounding concerned with the choice. "Weren't you worried that you'd be found out?"

"With no map of the base's layout or what security measures were present, I determined that it was a calculated risk, sir," Alex replied without hesitating. "If we'd attempted to carry out the mission without disguises, any camera in the base would've blown our cover before we could even find the lab where the weapon was being assembled. By adopting disguises and taking every measure to prevent an unobstructed view of our faces, I believed we could delay detection long enough to achieve the mission objectives."

Thompson merely nodded at this before jotting down a note.

From there Alex explained how they'd tailed the marked container while appearing to belong in the base. Once his team had located the room where the nuclear weapon was being constructed they took measures to ensure that a distress call couldn't be sent or that Insurrectionists could escape the base itself.

"According to Lt. General Henderson, it was my cutting off of base communications that alerted her crew that something was wrong at the moon base," Joyce said, choosing to interject at that point.

While a bit anomalous, it wasn't entirely unfeasible.

Given the destruction the nuclear weapon caused to Tribute's moon when it was still incomplete, it was safe to say that the project was a high priority one for the URF. As such having a command level ship receiving constant updates was understandable and a sudden cessation of data transfer would be more than enough to prompt investigation.

As the debriefing continued she learned of Alex's sabotage of the hanger doors and Daisy's reconnaissance of the laboratory. It was an efficient use of time and manpower, allowing them to secure the base quickly before employing the beacon to call in UNSC.

The only fumble that they'd made was activating the beacon inside a room that had been shielded but she could understand the tactical reasons for it. If they'd activated it outside of the room, they would've had to divide their forces between two locations, thus reducing their ability to hold either. If they hid the beacon after activating it there would've still been a good chance that it would've been located and destroyed. If they'd committed themselves to protecting the beacon, the Insurrectionists might've destroyed all project data and materials before UNSC forces arrived.

She'd like to see her enemies in the oversight committee suggest a better course of action.

Once Lt. General Henderson arrived with her ships Alex had taken stock of the situation and had managed to come up with an ambitious but not unsound strategy. Thompson could only chuckle at the audacity of the strategy and how the Insurrectionists must've looked when their 'prisoners' started to kick their butts. From there it was a short retelling of their departure from the base and their method of neutralizing the URF ships, wiping out a good portion of lunar real estate.

Once they were sure that pursuit was no longer an issue they'd descended to the planet's surface before commandeering a civilian vehicle and transporting the Lt. General to the closest UNSC facility.

"Well, I have to say, Zero-Six-Nine, that your ability to adapt to unforeseen developments is matched only by your unconventional methods," Commander Thompson commented wryly as he closed the file on the operation. "I'll do my best to sell your reasoning to the oversight committee. However, in the future, I would recommend that you leave blowing up enemy bases as an option of last resort. Zero-Seven-Zero's hard drives and the capture of Henderson might've mitigated any intel lost in the blast this time but luck only goes so far."

"That may be true but sometimes it's enough, Commander," she said, closing her own notes on the mission.

"True. Now with that matter out of the way we come to a recent development that might very well prove to be an even greater danger to humanity than the Insurrectionists," Thompson said as he opened the file containing all current data on the Harvest incident. "On February 3rd the Tiara space station made long range contact with a vessel of no known configuration. After that all contact was lost with the planet. The CMA attempted to keep things low key and managed to do so for over two months before pressure forced them to send one of their ships to investigate. Contact was lost with it soon after it confirmed arriving in the system.

"After the loss one ship and more than enough evidence to suggest a hostile force in the area, a battle group was organized comprised of the Heracles, Arabia and Vostok were sent ready for a fight," Henderson said before tapping a few keys near his chair, bringing up an image she'd seen before. "The data on the Heracles, the sole survivor of the encounter, was seriously damaged but it provided us with an image of the enemy ship as well as conclusive proof that it wasn't human in origin."

Focusing her gaze on the faces of the three SPARTANs, she could see them evaluating the image of the alien vessel and adding context with the damage it was capable of. Joyce would likely want to spend some time evaluating the sensor data on the ship while Alex would focus on analyzing anything that'd give insight to the ship's crew and their tactics.

Another set of key taps and the message she'd already seen played for Alex's team.

"Humans… your destruction is the will of the gods!" a distinctly alien life form said ominously. "And WE are their instrument!"

The message ended and the proof of a sentient life form that wasn't human proved capable of cracking her SPARTANs' composure, if only a bit.

"They call themselves the Covenant and just one of their ships managed to destroy both the Vostok and the Arabia in less than a minute while severely damaging the Heracles. They had plasma based weaponry capable of melting through the ships' armor and shields that none of the CMA ships could penetrate," Thompson said, showing how serious the situation was. "Both the Arabia and the Vostok were light frigates but the Heracles was a Hillsborough-class destroyer. As you can imagine no one is happy with the fact that they can destroy our ships while we can't even scratch the paint on theirs. Now it'd be nice if it was the only one of its kind but no one believes in that kind of luck or that it'd drop right in our laps."

"How does the UNSC plan to counter these aliens, sir?" Alex asked, fishing for additional information.

"ONI's still gathering intel and attempting to ascertain the Covenant's military strength with what information we currently have," Thompson replied, keeping things short and to the point. "Once we have both, a counterattack strategy will be developed and enacted."

"What about the other outer colonies, sir?" Joyce asked with concern for other potential targets.

"The UNSC and ONI brass believe it'd be a bad move to allow news of a genocidal alien race wiping out planets to reach the public. So until they have no choice, everything about the Covenant is now classified under security clearance level comparable to what you'd need to know about you SPARTANs." Thompson replied firmly so as not to be misunderstood.

Indeed it'd be absolute chaos if the civilian population became aware of the Covenant and their intentions.

Assuming anyone believed such information before the threat literally landed on their doorsteps and started killing people. Since the first day humans ventured out into the stars they'd kept watch for signs of intelligent alien life but until now they'd only found alien animal and plant life. Those with an axe to grind against the UNSC would likely accuse them of doing something to provoke the Covenant into declaring genocidal war. That or be quick to think that, so long as they made it clear that they had nothing to do with the ones at fault, that they would be spared.

In her experience any organization whose religion condoned the utter destruction of an entire race would not care all that much about details like that.

"Without knowing their plans we do not know what missions you might be sent on that might result in you coming into contact with them. I'd advise you to check regularly for new information on them and pack at least one heavy weapon just in case on future missions," Thompson said before closing the file on the Covenant turning the table dark.

"We will, sir," Alex said with a firm and determined nod.

"Then you and your teammates are dismissed," Thompson said, standing up and saluting the trio.

Watching as the team filed out to return to the others, she considered for the tenth time what the best course of action was given recent revelations. If Covenant troops were armed with plasma weaponry and other advanced technology similar to their ships, then conventional body armor would not be enough to keep her SPARTANs safe.

They would need Project Mjolnir.

While it'd always been her intent to give it to the SPARTANs eventually, she had thought that they'd do well enough against Insurrectionists in the beginning to allow her to make further refinements to the armor.

Now, though, there were bigger concerns than the Insurrectionists.

"With the briefing concluded, Commander, I will take my leave," she said, standing up and tucking her pad under her arm. "With this new development added to our plate of things to work on, neither of us will have much leisure time for the foreseeable future."

"No, I guess we won't," Thompson said with a small smirk. "Here's hoping things aren't as bad as it looks."

She didn't have the heart to tell the man what her instincts were telling her, that things were going to get worse, much worse, before they got any better.

 _ **UNSC Frigate Commonwealth**_

 _ **En Route To UNSC Damascus Materials Testing Facility**_

 _ **The Chi Ceti System**_

 _ **Joyce Zero-Seven-Zero's POV**_

"So what's the latest conclusion?" she asked Alex, who was lying on his bunk with pad in his hands.

"With only guesswork and minimum intel to work with, I can't be certain of anything conclusively but if the difference between ship-mounted weaponry and infantry weapons is the same for them as it is for us, we're at a clear tactical disadvantage." Alex put the pad down on the bed. "Infantry body armor isn't nearly as durable as ship armor and even with the scaled down power from ship weapons to personal weapons, we won't be able to take more than glancing shots. We need an upgrade and soon."

"You think that's where Doctor Halsey is taking us?" she asked, having come to that conclusion already.

"Probably. Anything else we might need we can get on Reach." he replied, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bunk.

She agreed with him on that point but she was still a bit mystified.

As a part of her growing skill in cyber warfare, she regularly made efforts to access sections of the base computer network that she wasn't authorized for using several different approaches. While Doctor Halsey regularly reprimanded her for her efforts, she knew that it was just for show to appease those who believed the SPARTANs should be kept on a tight leash. She'd seen enough of the messages sent to the doctor to know that not everyone in ONI supported the SPARTAN-II program and more than a few would be pleased to see it fail. To give the opposition any ammunition to use was to potentially threaten Doctor Halsey, along with every SPARTAN-II. Fortunately for them Doctor Halsey was all too familiar with such threats and so her 'hacking' would not be enough to even warrant mentioning so long as she kept her actions limited to the base.

From what she'd learned, the Damascus Materials Testing Facility was the home of something called Project Mjolnir and it had ties to the SPARTAN-II program. However, according to Norse mythology, Mjolnir was a weapon capable of shattering stone and projecting bolts of lightning.

It was not armor and possessed only minimal defensive capabilities.

 _Did Doctor Halsey choose the name to throw off any intruders into her files?_ she thought as Alex stood up and walked over to the nearby window.

Possibly. Misdirection and deception were valuable tools when you wanted to keep your true intentions a secret.

She was about to ask Alex what he considered appropriate response to the Covenant's actions when out of nowhere he turned and tackled her away from the window. She didn't have time to ask why before the ship rocked as something slammed into it and red alert alarms erupted to life from every available speaker.

"We're under attack," Alex explained as he got off her and they both got back to their feet. "I sensed a faint spike of aggression just before we got hit."

"Thanks but who hit us and why?" she asked, focusing on two very important things.

"If we want to know we'll probably have to go to the bridge," he replied as he began moving to the door of the cabin.

"Then let's get going," she said, following him as they left the room. "I'm going to want a name to go with the butt I plan on kicking."

The ship remained steady as they navigated down the hallways but crewmen were moving quickly towards their battle stations, forcing her to move around them. When they arrived on the bridge they were just in time to see six Archer missiles shoot towards an alien ship with a design closely matching the one that attacked Harvest. Somehow, out of the endless number of systems, the enemy had managed to stumble upon a ship that likely carried the UNSCs best chance at opposing them.

If she hadn't seen past evidence of random chance and bad luck, she would've suspected that someone had slipped the Covenant their arrival time in this system.

However bad luck was alive and well as she watched all six missiles impact upon some sort of energy shield, leaving the vessel itself unharmed.

"So they do have energy shielding," Doctor Halsey declared with some astonishment at the confirmation of existing intel.

Not surprising considering that, even with all the time that'd passed since mankind first left Earth's solar system, they had yet to develop energy shields for their ships. All they'd been able to do in order to protect their ships was add extra layers of armor plating, using whatever new material research and development had managed to come out with that year. When added to the fact that Archer missiles could incapacitate all but the most armored UNSC ships, it implied much about the technology at the Covenant's disposal.

"Doctor?! I thought only the largest of Covenant ships—" the captain of the Commonwealth exclaimed in shock at something that went against what he'd been told.

"We haven't had enough survivors of Covenant encounters to be sure of anything yet, captain!" Doctor Halsey snapped back, cutting the man off before he could finish. "What we do know is that missiles are not strong enough to penetrate those shields."

"Lieutenant! Arm the magnetic accelerator cannon!" the captain ordered, logically going with the next strongest option in his ship's arsenal as his next move against the enemy vessel.

"A M.A.C. round will penetrate through their shields but it will not be enough to stop the ship," Halsey pointed out, apparently sticking to her strength of pointing out the flaws of others. "They WILL counterattack and we will be destroyed."

"Doctor Halsey, I have my orders to get you and your package to Chi Ceti Four at all costs," the captain said as he turned to point a finger at Halsey. "I WILL accomplish that task."

With the matter settled as far as he was concerned, the captain turned back to the lieutenant at the weapons console to add further orders to the mix.

"Lieutenant, also arm one of our Shiva warheads. Set proximity fuse for one hundred meters and prepare to fire on my mark," he ordered before, turning away to the officer in charge of the ship's fighter compliment. "Get Longsword squadron Delta on the horn. Tell them to put their ships in the black and engage the enemy craft."

"Aye," the man said in a way that made it evident that he knew he was about to send comrades to their deaths.

"Longswords don't stand a chance against a Covenant ship of that size!" Halsey protested, trying to make the captain see reason. "It's SUICIDE!"

"Perhaps but it will buy us time to make orbit around Chi Ceti Four," the captain said, proving the strength of his resolve to accomplish his mission.

Knowing she did not have the rank to enter into the conversation, she instead chose to focus her efforts on absorbing the new intel as it came into being. She was certain that Doctor Halsey would be reviewing this entire encounter later and the woman enjoyed having her to act as a sounding board to bounce theories off of. It wasn't long before Delta squadron was in the black, flying towards the Covenant ship in a standard attack formation. Once they were within range, a barrage of ASGM-10 missiles was set loose only to detonate against the energy shield, producing even less flare than the Archer missiles had. As per their training the pilots began to veer away so that they could circle back for another run but, before they could even exit their own weapons range, plasma shots from the Covenant vessel blew them all into so much debris.

To her this conclusively proved that in future encounters Longswords should not be wasted on Covenant ships of any sort until the explosive yield of their missiles has been put significantly above that of an Archer missile.

"Sir, M.A.C. charging and Shiva ready," the lieutenant said from his console.

"Launch Shiva!" the captain ordered, launching the nuclear missile from the Commonwealth.

Seeing the comet with a flaming tail shoot towards the Covenant ship, she had to wonder what the captain was planning because, while a nuke was powerful, she didn't think it would be enough.

It was when the M.A.C. gun reached full charge and was subsequently fired that she comprehended the captain's plan. As fast as the Shiva missile was, the round fired by the M.A.C. would be faster, if only by a little bit. Without a doubt the captain was betting on the gun's shot weakening the enemy shields enough for the Shiva missile to punch the rest of the way through to impact on the enemy vessel's hull. Her prediction proved true when, a moment later, a nuclear blast obscured the Covenant ship for a short while before the interference died down enough for the Commonwealth's sensors to inform them of the results.

"It's not destroyed," the lieutenant reported with disappointment at what many had no doubt hoped would be a telling blow. "We only wounded it."

"They're moving away from us. Most likely to make repairs," the captain said, pointing out the silver lining he want everyone to see. "It'll be back for another go once they've locked down any problems."

"I don't think we'll last another round, sir," the lieutenant said, continuing to sift through information. "The reactor sustained additional damage from charging the M.A.C."

"Jettison the core," the captain ordered before turning to the helmsman. "Navigation, I want an orbital flyby of the Damascus facility. As close as you can get us without burning through our power reserves."

"Aye, sir," the helmsman said as she began to chart the ordered course.

"Core jettisoned," the lieutenant reported after a slight vibration physically confirmed the information.

"Inform engineering they have three hours to install our replacement," the captain ordered, evidently planning to cause the Covenant as much trouble as possible.

"Sir? Proper installation requires a space dock and days of test—" the lieutenant protested, obviously being someone who did things by the book and believed the written rules.

Too bad he didn't realize that every engineer and inventor was a little conservative on paper concerning how long something would take to do or what their creations could take.

It made it easier to brag later on when it managed to surprise someone or save the day.

"THREE HOURS," the captain insisted, making it clear the matter was closed.

With that the captain of the Commonwealth turned his attention back to Doctor Halsey.

"Doctor Halsey, we will drop you and your package and then fall back and make as many repairs as time allows. If it comes down to it, we will act as bait for the Covenant ship," the captain said, his measured optimism coloring his tone, "but if you can make it back here in time…"

With no way of knowing how fast the enemy would be able to make enough repairs to their ship to feel confident enough to resume their assault the Commonwealth, it was a distinct possibility that their ride home would be destroyed.

And everyone on the bridge knew it.

"Whatever's down there, I hope it's worth it." the captain said, sounding like he'd take some comfort in knowing that he was spending lives rather than wasting them.

"Captain, I do not think it would be overestimating the situation when I say that what's down on Chi Ceti Four is crucial for humanity's survival," Doctor Halsey said, telling the man all she could without divulging classified secrets.

"Then get the rest of your people and get down to the hanger," the captain said, gaining some courage from the statement. "A Pelican will be waiting to take all of you planetside."

"Good luck, captain," Doctor Halsey said, acknowledging the sacrifice the crew of the Commonwealth was about to make.

With a look the leader of the SPARTAN-II program told her and Xander to follow her off the bridge.

Showing that he did have some grasp of discretion, Alex waited until the hallway they were in was clear of crewmen before opening his mouth.

"If the Covenant destroy the Commonwealth, Doctor, they will likely target the testing facility next," Alex said, conveying his tactical forecast. "Regardless of whatever is down there it won't be a match for a Covenant ship."

"Wait until you see Project Mjolnir for yourself, Alex, and then say that." Doctor Halsey said with a confident grin.

She knew from that grin alone that Alex would be eating his words soon enough.

 _ **Cruising Through the Atmosphere of Chi Ceti Four**_

 _ **Daisy-Zero-Two-Three's POV**_

"Damascus Materials Testing Facility to incoming pelican, please identify yourself." came a voice from the pelican's comm-system.

"This is Doctor Catherine Halsey. Damascus clearance one-nine-seven-three-seven-one-alpha," Doctor Halsey said after pressing the transmit button.

For a few minutes nothing was heard of from the facility indicating that they were comparing the authorization code with what was in their systems while likely also analyzing the doctor's voice. This was, after all, a highly classified UNSC research facility so not just anyone could be allowed to set foot on it.

"Doctor, you are cleared for landing pad four," the facility communications officer stated, showing that everything had checked out.

In response the pelican pilot altered course to fly towards the landing beacon that'd popped up on the craft's sensors and from what she could see the ETA was less than three minutes.

Time enough for her to remember who they'd left to fight a losing battle in space while they journeyed towards the temporary safety of the facility.

Unlike Alex, who had his natural stubbornness to see him through, and Joyce, who had her intellect to keep tossing possibilities at her, she only had the facts. The Covenant vessel had them outgunned and the Commonwealth's weapons could barely scratch the paint. While it was conceivable that they might gain victory using the captain's combination of M.A.C. round and Shiva missiles, it would depend on whether or not the enemy failed to learn from the first successful hit. If they hadn't and the next blow was aimed somewhere crucial, like the engine core or the main bridge, then victory would be theirs. However if the enemy was as skilled and as intelligent as UNSC navy personnel, then they'd destroy the Shiva before it could get close or make sure they never got into the crosshairs of the M.A.C. gun again.

Still, the captain of the Commonwealth had proven that he could devise unconventional tactics on the fly so it wasn't impossible that he could come up with another successful tactic.

As they came in for a landing she decided that there was little she could do from where she was and dwelling on what couldn't be changed was a waste of both time as well as energy.

With the hiss of the airlock opening she, along with every other SPARTAN-II present, stood up and lined up behind Doctor Halsey before disembarking from the pelican. At a steady stride they advanced on the facility, only pausing briefly when they reached the main doors so that Halsey could open them. Once they were inside, though, her eyes fell upon a cutting edge R&D facility with equipment that probably cost more than the food budget of most colonies. However it was the crowd of humanoid armored forms that snagged her attention and not just because that was where Halsey was heading. It was also because it looked to be a seriously upgraded form of the armor that the instructors had started wearing after she and the other SPARTANs had finished acclimating to their enhancements.

"SPARTANs, I present to you Project Mjolnir," Doctor Halsey declared, gesturing towards the armored suits. "The armor's shell is a multi-layer alloy of remarkable strength, coated with a refractive material that disperses incoming energy weapon attacks. An onboard bio-computer interfaces with your neural implants to constantly track vital statistics and the armor's inner structure is composed of a new reactive metal liquid crystal that is amorphous yet fractically scales and amplifies force."

While she was suitably impressed by the apparent cutting edge nature of the armor, she was not as academically inclined as Joyce was.

Fortunately the brains behind the SPARTAN-II program knew this as well.

"This armor is, to put it bluntly, SPARTANs, the single most cutting-edge piece of technology humanity has developed since you," Halsey said before stepping over to a console to activate a holo-pad.

"Ma'am, did I understand correctly? This enhances our strength?" John asked from his position to the left of her.

"Yes, John. It allows an increase in ability of a normal human by a factor of five," Halsey replied turning to the ideal SPARTAN-II. "The problem, however, is that the system is so reactive that unaugmented volunteers wound up breaking their own bones trying to move, tore their own muscles and, as a result, their pained spasms killed them."

Seeing holographic video feed of one such volunteer trying to use the Mjolnir armor, only to get twisted into a human pretzel, she couldn't help but feel uneasy at the prospect of putting a set on.

"But you are not normal humans. Your enhanced musculature and the metal and ceramic layers bonded to your skeleton should be enough to allow you to harness the armor's power," Halsey said as she switched off the holo-display. "There has been insufficient computer modeling, however, so there will be some risk involved."

"I'll be the first to try it," John said, stepping out of the crowd in front of Doctor Halsey.

"I thought you might, John," Halsey said with a knowing smile.

It was just so like John to take the lead whenever they came across some sort of unknown that had the potential to be harmful. Ever since their first group mission out in the snow-covered woods, John had done everything he could in order to make sure that no one was left behind and no one died while he was present. Alex had pointed out once that, as good as John was, he couldn't protect everyone but to this Sierra One-One-Seven had simply said 'that does not mean I should stop trying'.

With John's volunteering the group once more went on the move as they proceeded off to a room on the right with a single large observation window. John and Doctor Halsey were the only ones to go inside but, as she saw through the glass, a four man team of scientists was waiting inside, ready to put the armor on One-One-Seven so the rest of them waited outside. Window space was at a premium so it was quickly filled up by whomever got there first, which of course meant Kelly got the sweetest spot by the intercom. Linda and Fred were next but, refusing to be the one being restricted to audio only, she managed to claim a spot for herself with some creative maneuvering.

John disappeared behind a curtain for a short time but, when he reemerged, he was wearing a black bodysuit that definitely looked like it was meant to go with the armor. From there he stepped onto a circular platform at the center of an array of mechanical arms with various tools attached to the ends. Watching John move, she got the impression that he was stepping into something very precise but, once both of his feet were on the platform, the scientists began to move in concert. One piece at a time they began to assemble the armor around John, locking them into place until all that was visible of John was his head.

"You will need to move slowly. Deliberately," Halsey said once the assembly was finished. "Give yourself time to learn how it reacts. The armor cannot be powered down. The response cannot be scaled back. Just breathe normally but otherwise remain absolutely still."

"Yes, ma'am," John said, not moving anything else other than his head.

It was then that with slow, turtle-like speed that John's arms began to move, followed by his legs. Just standing up took forever but eventually the squad leader was on his feet, looking at Halsey.

"I feel it… shifting," John said as he continued to move his arms to test his control.

"Each Mjolnir battle suit has a gel-filled layer to regulate temperature and fit," Halsey explained before walking over to some shelves nearby to pick up a helmet.

The helmet she had looked like it'd been designed to give its wearer a complete field of vision since the visor made up the top half of the helmet.

"Now slowly, carefully, take your helmet," Halsey said as she held out the last piece of the armor.

"Nice." John said as he reached out to take it… only to crush it in his grasp. "Oh, no! I—"

Apparently John's early success didn't mean that he'd already mastered the basics of using the armor. Seeing this, she could only imagine that the fine control would take a LOT of practice and a LOT of time.

"Stay calm!" Doctor Halsey exclaimed in an effort to keep John from getting excited. "Stop moving!"

John froze and did as he was told.

"Let's try this again, only this time I will put it on you," Halsey said as she chose another helmet with a more focused field of vision and a cap-like beak over the visor. "We'll wait until you're acclimated before we try any finesse movements."

"Yes, Ma'am," John agreed, bending over in order to make it easier for the doctor to put the helmet on.

It only took a moment for the helmet to slide into place and once it was properly connected to the main body of the armor all of them could behold what they themselves would look like after they'd had their turn.

"Well? How does it feel?" Halsey asked with a smile of pride at what she was looking at.

"Feels like I was born to wear it, Ma'am," John said, sounding like he was more certain than ever that he could handle anything that tried to take him on.

Considering how formidable the squad leader had been before the Mjolnir armor, she had a hard time disagreeing with that possibility.

 _ **Mine Training Facility, Two Days Later**_

 _ **Alex-Zero-Six-Nine's POV**_

Sam was dead.

It was during the time when he was in the middle of getting his armor assembled while John's team was putting theirs through its paces that the Commonwealth had radioed in. Apparently the Covenant ship was back on the approach and was estimated to return to weapons range in less than ten minutes. Unfortunately the UNSC ship had not been close to being ready to tangle with them again so, as usual John, had volunteered himself, Kelly and Sam to intercept the enemy ship. He hadn't doubted any of them but he'd also felt that tackling a ship that size with just three SPARTANs was a bit too risky. He'd spoken up, saying that if they waited until he was fully suited up he would join them, increasing the odds of the mission succeeding.

He'd been denied on the grounds that every minute counted if the Commonwealth was going to be saved and that he lacked experience fighting alongside John's team. Both points meant that his presence might actually increase the odds of mission failure instead.

With reluctance he'd accepted their judgment and remained behind.

It'd only been an hour later that John had returned to the facility.

They returned one SPARTAN light.

Halsey had been the one ask the question and, like a good soldier, John had given an efficient report on what'd occurred aboard the enemy vessel. How they'd taken a nuke aboard by slipping through the shields, followed the energy readings to what he figured had been the engine core only to run into enemy forces. Sam had taken a hit meant for John and, while it hadn't been serious it had done the one thing that'd prevented his war brother from returning; it'd compromised his armor's airtight seal beyond the hope of a quick patch job.

Sam had chosen to remain behind and make sure that the nuke wasn't tampered with before detonation rather than die in the vacuum of space.

He knew the logic behind the choice but it did nothing to soften the blow that all SPARTANs were now recovering from.

Sam was dead.

Everyone had their own way to cope with the loss of their brother and in his case it was training to master his new armor as quickly and as thoroughly as possible. From simple movements, to manipulating objects, to finding out where the suit's limits were, he used whatever was available to help him reach his goal. He was making good progress and only took breaks when Joy insisted on it but he didn't need to be a genius to know he still had a ways to go. If he focused, if he was careful, he could do most of what he wanted without any undesirable consequences, but he knew that on the battlefield the enemy rarely granted you the opportunity to narrow your vision on any one task. He tried to do things quicker and closer to what he felt would be necessary in combat but the damage done to the objects was unacceptable. He'd gone at it for an hour straight until all he had to show for it was a pile of mangled weapons with impressions the size of his hands on every one of them.

Forced to accept a rate of speed that would not cause the program's weapons budget to double in less than a month, he'd focused on strength, speed and reflex training.

According to Doctor Halsey, the UNSC was giving them one month to acclimate to the armor before they'd be put back into service to go on whatever missions were deemed worthy of SPARTAN deployment.

When those thirty days came to an end, he'd be ready.

"Alex!" Joy yelled from behind him, almost breaking his concentration.

However, since holding a Warthog over one's head and losing your concentration would likely end with an embarrassing fall, he stayed focused and slowly put the vehicle back on the ground.

"What is it, Joy?" he asked, turning to his teammate as she approached in what SPARTANs considered 'relaxing at home' clothes.

"They're discharging Serin. She's out," Joyce said, sounding distressed by this news.

It'd been eight months since they'd all undergone enhancement and in most cases the results fell into one of three areas: death, disabled or successful. The dead had been given a proper UNSC funeral, the disabled had been reassigned to areas where their mental training could be put to use and the third moved on to field work. However there was always an 'x' factor involved in any enterprise and, in the case of the SPARTAN-II program, that factor was named Serin.

Like all the other children conscripted into the Program, Serin had undergone rigorous training alongside the rest of them to make both body and mind as strong as they could be without artificial intervention. Also like the rest of them, she'd proven herself capable of learning what they were taught and applying it to real life training scenarios constructed by Chief Mendez.

When the time came for the enhancement procedures, she'd proved it was possible to be both lucky as well as unlucky at the same time. She'd been lucky in that she'd managed to survive the enhancement procedures without dying or being afflicted by any of the many side effects that forced some of their number to be reassigned. However she'd also been unlucky in that, while physically superior to any natural human, it'd quickly become apparent that her abilities were nowhere near what the complete successes were capable of.

For the last eight months Doctor Halsey had spent what time she'd had available examining Serin while also exploring possible ways by which the enhancements could be coaxed to do what they were meant to do. According to Joy, the Doctor had been doing what she could to buy time to explore all the possibilities but now it looked like time was up.

"Let's go," he said before breaking into a sprint that Joy was able to keep up with.

Getting back to the surface they took the most direct route and soon had sunlight on their heads and adjusted the direction to target the main administration building. Thanks to their enhanced speed they managed to cover ground quickly but even so they barely arrived in time to see Serin walking down the front steps with two men in suits bookending her. Immediately he was able to identify them as being ONI but this struck him as odd. Even if she wasn't able to be a SPARTAN, she still had plenty to offer the Navy, so why was she being escorted off base by agents from the Office of Naval Intelligence?

"Serin!" he yelled, causing his sister to look in his direction and for the ONI agents to come to a stop.

"Here to see me off, Alex?" Serin asked sounding quietly angry. "You and Joyce would be the only ones."

That didn't make sense.

With all the years they'd spent living together, sweating and bleeding together, they'd all formed bonds with each other as close as any family would possess. If Serin was leaving then he'd have expected every SPARTAN to show up, alongside Chief Mendez to give them a proper send off. Doctor Halsey wouldn't be there but that was because she had never been much of a people person, preferring to focus on her work.

So why weren't they here?

"I don't know why the others aren't here but after finding out that you were leaving there's no other place I'd rather be," he said, being honest with how he felt. "I'm sorry things didn't work out for you here, Serin."

"I'm sorry, too," Serin said, emoting a bit of regret with both her voice as well as her face.

"So… you're hooking up with ONI?" he asked, figuring he wasn't smooth enough to put the question any better.

"They made me a good offer. Something better than a token position for one of the Program's failures," Serin said with bitterness towards the alternatives she'd been offered by the UNSC.

Assuming that Serin had gotten offers similar to what the disabled had after the enhancement procedures, he could understand how she'd be insulted. They'd been told by Doctor Halsey that they'd been chosen to become the best of the best, the protectors of Earth and all her colonies, and that had caused many of them to feel like they were special. So to be shuffled out of the Program to desk jobs or assignments that anyone could've gotten with enough hard work and time would've made the 'chosen' story stink a little.

Fan that stink for a bit and it'd turn into anger.

"Well, if you got scouted by ONI then I guess they recognize your skills. They don't let just anyone wear those letters on their armor," he said, trying not to let his personal opinion of the organization show. "You'll keep in touch after you get settled, right? I know you won't be able to say much if it's above my pay grade but a 'how are you doing' every now and again couldn't hurt."

It was his opinion that being a member of ONI was a dangerous position because to succeed you had to be willing to cross lines most people wouldn't be willing to save under extreme duress, and if you got used to crossing the line you soon started to ignore it without realizing it. Before long you ceased to be the person you'd been when you first joined and those who'd known you before could only see you as a stranger if not a monster.

If keeping in touch with him, reminding her that she still had family on Reach, kept her from losing herself to the grey moral fog that got into the heads of ONI members, then he'd do whatever he could.

"We'll see. They gave me a job description but not how much work I'll need to do to be brought up to speed," Serin conceded with a strong nod. "When I get the chance I'll send a message."

"It might take a few weeks but I'll see if I can provide her that opportunity," one of the ONI agents said in a polite but somewhat hollow tone.

With that the two agents escorted Serin into the waiting car and they all drove off, passing through the gates of the base minutes later.

Less than twenty minutes later they were too far away for his enhanced eyesight to pick out, even with his armor helping.

"I don't like it," Joy said with a voice of suspicion and mild anger.

"I'm not crazy about Serin going to ONI but it's her choice," he said, dropping the mildly forced support and happiness. "I just hope she's smart enough to realize that by joining ONI she's made herself a target for anyone with an axe to grind against with Doctor Halsey. No telling how they'll plan on using her against the Doctor."

"But we couldn't have stopped her with just that," Joy said, jumping ahead a few steps in the conversation. "It'd just sound like paranoia or worse fabricated facts from Doctor Halsey."

"And that'd just push her further away," he said, agreeing with his friend's words. "If we're to get her to keep her guard up in ONI and convince her she has friends here, we need to either find undeniable proof or get her looking in places she might find it herself."

"Ask for a statue you can see from orbit why don't you?" Joy asked sarcastically, providing her difficulty estimate.

"It won't be that tough," he said with a half smile. "Just put that photographic memory of yours to good use and leave it to me to pull a rabbit out of my hat."

"I think even Doctor Halsey would have a problem with blowing up ONI HQ, even if it got Serin back," Joy said with a smile of her own.

"You blow up part of a moon and suddenly people think making things go boom is your only trick!" he said, rolling his eyes at the joke.

Blowing shit up wasn't his only trick.

It just delivered satisfying results more often than not.

 _ **UNSC Marathon-class Heavy Crusier Hannibal**_

 _ **Slipspace, Three Weeks Later**_

 _ **SPARTAN Joyce-Zero-Seven-Zero's POV**_

 _Is it normal to be kept waiting this long?_ she thought to herself as she and her team awaited the officer who'd be briefing them.

When they'd been contacted the day before last by the oversight committee that their next mission had been selected, she'd been expecting a vid-call or an officer arriving the same day with the details. Instead they'd just been instructed to travel to the spaceport to be flown up to the heavy cruiser Hannibal and that their destination was Circinius IV. They'd tried to get more information, even Doctor Halsey had lent her aid, but the top brass had been remarkably tight lipped on the subject. When time had run out to get better informed they'd left for the spaceport and caught a Pelican up to the Hannibal, but it'd only been an hour ago that they'd been summoned for their official briefing.

She'd expected the briefer to already be there when they got to the room or to arrive in under ten minutes.

Obviously this hadn't happened.

Still, it was part of her duty as a SPARTAN and a soldier of the UNSC to maintain discipline, so instead of leaving the room to find the briefer like she wanted, she would wait however long it took.

Hearing the door open, she turned her head to see a high-ranking officer of advanced years come in and move to take the chair at the head of the table. When his gaze fell upon them, though, there was a quality to it that she had not seen in other superior officers or even Commander Thompson and, for a moment, she could not define it. However when she remembered some of the expressions on the Insurrectionists of the moon base prior to turning the tables on them in the hanger, she recognized it.

Anger.

Not strong enough to be called hate but still present nonetheless.

"SPARTANs, I am Colonel Abernathy and I will be handling your briefing," Abernathy said with a scowl of dislike on his face. "Briefing packets will be provided at the end of this meeting so I will keep to the broad strokes.

"As you are aware we have recently come into contact with an alien race bent on the annihilation of humanity. However, due to our lack of intel of their capabilities and their overall strategy, we have little in the way to predict where they will strike next," Abernathy said as he brought up holographic images of past Covenant encounters. "As a result forces are being deployed in secret to every populated human colony within ten days travel of Harvest. Naturally their presence will be disguised as the usual bullshit: training exercises, future suspected Insurrectionist attacks and anything else the civilian population will believe. Should the Covenant appear the forces deployed will immediately send out a distress call before countering the attack and buy time for reinforcements to arrive."

"I presume that's where we come in?" Alex asked as team leader.

"Indeed," Abernathy replied, sounding none too pleased by this. "You are being assigned to the covert protection detail of Circinius IV. More specifically you will be assigned to protect the Corbulo Academy of Military Science by request of several high ranking members of the UNSC."

She was familiar with Corbulo by reputation and via the various tests that Doctor Halsey had given her in order to test her intelligence. It was a very prestigious school and one of the unofficial requirements to go there was that you had to be the child of a UNSC officer of sufficient rank. Officially anyone could join provided they passed the entrance exam and could afford the yearly tuition fees. The fees, of course, only served to make sure that only wealthy families could send their children there.

"I presume, sir, that my team and I will be stationed close to the Academy and monitor the situation from a distance?" Alex asked, making it clear that 'covert' meant they would not be anyplace they might be spotted.

"You're half right," Abernathy replied with a small feral grin. "Due to the security clearance required to even know about your kind, having more than one of you on Academy property would raise too many questions. However if only one of you was there, in disguise, not only should there be no suspicion but it would ensure the safety of several VIPs."

She didn't like this and, judging by the physical tell that only she knew of, neither did Alex.

The colonel was obviously up to something and did not have the team's best interests at heart.

"I assume that I'll have some sort of disguise or fabricated identity in order to maintain the secrecy of the SPARTAN-II project," Alex said, keeping his displeasure from peeking out from behind his mask of a professional soldier.

"Indeed you will. You'll be Lieutenant Jonathan Donner of the ODST visiting the Academy in order to teach a seminar on… urban warfare. Naturally you'll be outfitted with ODST armor and gear, with only the commanding officer of the Academy knowing the truth," Abernathy said, looking like there was some sort of malicious joke that only he saw. "However let me make some things perfectly clear: you must never allow anyone to suspect your true nature. That means you must restrain the use of your physical prowess to normal human levels and not show signs of knowledge beyond what one would expect of an ODST lieutenant. Should ANY indication manifest that you've not followed these guidelines to the letter, you will be removed from Circinius IV. The details will be included in explicit detail in the mission report and proper action will be taken."

"What precisely do you mean by 'proper action', sir?" Alex asked, not showing any sign of changing his behavior.

"That will be decided by the SPARTAN-II Program oversight committee," Colonel Abernathy replied, implying with his expression that he would not be involved in the matter. "However I would not be surprised if increased supervision protocols were implemented. After all, if you and your comrades can't keep a low profile, your usefulness in countering the Insurrectionists or these aliens will be only be half of what it could've been. If veteran ONI agents or ODST members were assigned to each SPARTAN team and given full command authority with the punishment for disregarding orders being… indefinite detainment… then perhaps it would soothe any ruffled feathers."

So that was his game.

During their training under the Chief and the other instructors, one of the things she'd seen signs of was a growing bitterness and dislike among the latter. The Chief made sure that it didn't affect the training sessions and personally took an instructor down a peg if they didn't keep their opinions to themselves. However, with her photographic memory, she remembered every incident clearly as well as the subtler signs of animosity that managed to slip by the Chief's notice. Piecing together everything she'd witnessed, she got the impression that the ODSTs and possibly others were disgusted as well as insulted by the purpose of the Program.

Freaks.

Lab rats.

Monsters.

Abominations.

Those were some of the terms she'd heard some of the instructors use in reference to her and the rest of the SPARTAN-IIs when they thought no one could hear them. She hadn't talked about it with anyone, feeling compelled to figure it out on her own beforehand. She could only spare the odd hour or two every week since the rest had to be left for training but that'd been more than enough time. The conclusion she reached was that the ODST and those like them felt threatened by her and her adoptive family. Up until the time of the SPARTAN-II Program, the UNSC had used conventional training with its military members to push them to the peak of what was possible for a human. Those who were considered the elite therefore had special standing amongst the members of the UNSC and were able to feel pride in what they could do as well as how they were seen by others.

However, with the coming of the SPARTAN-II Program, a new breed of soldier had been born, one with abilities that, thanks to science, put them in a league above the former elite, causing those who used to stand at the top to be forced to second place.

Normally going from first place to second wasn't too terrible because most people believed that if they just increased their training they could one day reclaim the top spot.

That which put her and her family above the former elite could only be achieved through scientific augmentation and the current enlisted personnel were already beyond the age requirement for that. Doctor Halsey had made it clear to her that the only reason as many members of her family had survived was because their bodies were at a stage of development where the enhancements stood the best chance of being accepted. If the same enhancement procedures were performed on anyone older, then, regardless of their physical state of fitness, the odds of them surviving were virtually zero. Whether the instructors who insulted her family knew this or not, she did not know. Regardless of whether or not they consciously were aware of this insurmountable hurdle or not, the end result was the same: growing bitterness and anger.

If others with the necessary clearance had become aware of the SPARTAN-IIs, as well as the process by which they had gone from children to super soldiers, then it was only logical that they too would feel the same as the hostile instructors.

While the instructors did not have the power to do anything in response to how they felt towards her family, Colonel Abernathy was another matter altogether. The man wouldn't be able to do anything obviously shady with his authority to undermine them but, if he was subtle enough, he could engineer situations that had a high probability of reflecting badly on them. With enough reports that cast her and the rest of the SPARTANs in a bad light, the oversight committee, as well as those above them, might reevaluate the entire Program.

At worst it would be shut down, with her family being reassigned to positions that could not harm the UNSC or its interests.

"Now, according to the latest ETA from the bridge, we'll be arriving at Circinius IV in five hours," Colonel Abernathy said as he shut down the holograms displayed by the table. "I suggest you return to your room and spend that time committing the relevant facts to memory. There can be no mistakes with the stakes this high. DISMISSED!"

Just as they'd been taught she, Alex and Daisy rose to their feet before executing a perfect salute while looking straight ahead.

The older man did not look to be very impressed and left the room without another word.

"We've received out mission, team," Alex said, looking Daisy in the eyes before turning to do the same to her. "Let's get it done."

There was no hurt from how Abernathy had behaved or hostile anger, but rather the same sort of resolve that'd been on his face when he'd asked her to help make sure every SPARTAN remembered their full name and where they'd come from.

Abernathy's scheme was nothing more than a challenge to Alex and it was one he was determined to not just pass but destroy.

They all would.

 _ **Corbulo Academy of Military Science, Outside General Black's Office**_

 _ **8:00a.m**_

 _ **Alex Zero-Six-Nine's POV**_

 _So far no ripples have been made that weren't desired from the beginning,_ he thought as she stood outside the office of the man in charge of the Academy. _With the side-effect of the ODST helmet's HUD, seeing my face is impossible. Add to the vocal distortion program Joy put into the com-gear and there should be no way for anyone to learn the truth unless one of them fails._

In order to ensure that neither system failed, he would be sure to perform maintenance on them to the best of his ability while leaving the parts beyond his expertise to Joy. He'd also had Daisy set up basic security measures for the room they'd been assigned to ensure that there wouldn't be any surprise guests getting in. No one would be entering without warning to see the three of them without their helmets, much less in their full Mjolnir armor, and no one would get the chance to sabotage his ODST gear.

 _I'll still try to research the various ways that outside forces can cause malfunctions or short out the systems entirely though,_ he thought as he heard the door to the office open. _While I might be overthinking the length those who oppose the Program will go to see it fail, it's the job of a team leader to anticipate potential threats to their team._

"Lieutenant Donner?" General Black asked from just inside his office.

"Yes, sir," he replied, performing a crisp salute.

"Step into my office," Black ordered before stepping aside. "Let's get the bureaucratic bullshit out of the way quickly so you can get to your first class on time."

Nodding, he walked into the office but, even once the door closed, he didn't let the ODST performance end since he was aware of multiple methods of eavesdropping that could be employed in this situation.

"Orlan: initiate security measures Omega Black." General Black ordered to the Academy's artificial intelligence.

"Omega Black security now in effect, General," the disembodied voice of the A.I. stated via the room's speakers.

"Now that that is dealt with we can move on to the real discussion," General Black said with a somewhat distant tone. "The orders I received were a bit sparse on the details. Any chance you could enlighten me further?"

"Yes, sir. ONI has come up with a list of possible imminent targets that the Covenant might attack based on distance from Harvest as well as any data they might have acquired there. Given Circinius IV's position, population and the VIPs at the Academy, it was decided that my team and I be deployed here for added protection," he replied, keeping to the facts the General was cleared for. "My specific task is to monitor the situation here at the Academy while undercover as an ODST teaching urban warfare tactics. My teammates will be scouting the woods surrounding the Academy as well as the nearby population centers for any sign of Covenant presence."

"And how long do you expect this assignment to last?" General Black asked, absorbing the information without any opposition.

"It's difficult to say, sir," he replied honestly, answering the question. "At the moment all the UNSC and ONI can do is attempt to anticipate the enemy from a human point of view. There's no guarantee that these aliens think like we do so there's a chance we will continue to be caught by surprise despite our efforts. Until enough intelligence has been gathered to confidently predict their future actions, all we can do is cover as many scenarios as possible and be ready to adapt should the unexpected happen."

"In other words your team's stay could be indefinite." General Black said, summarizing the current situation.

"Yes, sir," he agreed, seeing that as a feasible possibility.

"Based on what I've been told of your skill set, your presence at the Academy will likely be a beneficial one," General Black said with a measured grin. "However I expect to be kept in the loop regarding any new developments involving the Covenant and their potential arrival here at the Academy. The students and faculty here are MY responsibility and I will not have them come to harm because relevant information was kept from me."

"I understand, sir. I assure you that I will pass on as much information as I can," he said, concealing a bit of irritation. "As you are aware, though, there will be some information I will not be able to provide due to your current level of security clearance. If this is not satisfactory I suggest pursuing the matter through official channels."

"I am well aware of what my security clearance level is, 'Lieutenant Donner', and I would not ask you to violate UNSC regulations on the matter," General Black said seriously, sounding a bit offended by the idea that he'd ask for those regulations to be ignored. "Nevertheless I sincerely hope that you are not the sort of person that puts the rules before the lives of innocent people."

"I am not, sir. It is the mandate of my unit to protect the UNSC and all her colonies," he said just as seriously as the General had. "If the rules interfere with the carrying out of that mission then I will do what I must."

"Good to hear. Now your first class will begin in an hour," General Black said, picking up a pad and handing it to him. "Please let me know if there's anything you need."

"Thank you, sir," he said, taking the pad before tucking it under his right arm. "I expect most of what I have to teach can be done in the classroom. However, should my team's stay be projected to last more than a few months, it may become necessary to find a location off campus to carry out mock scenarios in order to apply what they've learned."

"I'll look into the matter and attempt to find some acceptable possibilities," General Black said as he stood up from his chair. "Welcome to Corbulo Academy."

Standing as well, he performing a salute and turned away before leaving the office.

He'd already come up with a loose lesson plan using the Chief's training as a base before adapting it to properly match the cadets attending the Academy.

He had no experience as a teacher.

Nevertheless, he would do his best to pass on what he knew.

 _ **Academy Lecture Hall, One Hour Later**_

 _ **Cadet JunJie Chen's POV**_

"Welcome, cadets, to your introductory course to urban warfare," the ODST behind the podium said loudly enough to be heard even in the back. "I will be your guest lecturer. I am Lieutenant Donner of the ODST."

This shocked him along with everyone else.

While it was not unheard of for advanced classes to receive guest lecturers from the UNSC who were still active, he knew that his class hadn't even reached halfway in their education at the Academy. Also among those who sought a future as a member of the UNSC, the ODST were considered the cream of the crop outside of command level officers. They went on missions that no one else could, against enemies that posed a serious threat to the safety and stability of the UEG as well as the UNSC. He didn't know the details but what he had heard was that there was an intense screening process before you were even allowed to try out for the ODST. Once you were allowed to stand at the starting line, he was certain that it was even harder to prove that you could become one of them.

So to say that they had one as an instructor meant that they were incredibly lucky.

"As the name implies, urban warfare is combat that takes place in towns and cities rather than in the wild or at a fortified location. This makes fighting in such an environment very different on multiple levels," Lieutenant Donner said as he brought up a holographic representation of a city. "The reasons for engaging in urban warfare can range from capitalizing on strategic or tactical advantages through possession or to control areas that are disadvantageous to the enemy.

"But that's a text book definition. Let's take a look at examples from the past and examine them from both the side of the victor as well as those who were defeated." The holographic projection changed and information was sent to their chair info-Pads. "You don't know, after all, which side of the fight you'll wind up on."

From there they were shown various historical battles, ranging from pre-space flight Earth to the various conflicts that'd manifested since the founding of the UNSC. In the beginning he'd been worried that the lieutenant would only be repeating what was written in the library files and nothing more. However, when the teacher began to make good on his intent to explain both sides of the conflicts, it could be said that they finally got to the meat of the class.

He found himself quite interested because, unlike what some might expect, Lieutenant Donner did not show favoritism towards any side in the conflict and bluntly convey the strengths as well as weaknesses of each side. Many of the other instructors at the academy often showed which side they favored personally or chose the side that mirrored the current image of the UNSC and UEG. This soldier, though, was coming as close to providing an unbiased point of view as was possible for a human being.

Glancing a bit around the classroom he could see that the rest of the class, as well as his squad mates, were also showing interest in what Donner had to say. However, just as the man was about to begin another conflict the bell rang, signifying the end of the class and the beginning of the brief period of time they had to get to their next class.

"Okay, that's all the time we have for today," Lieutenant Donner said, shutting down his holographic visual aids. "Now for next class I'd like you to pick one of the conflicts I've talked about and, using what I've told you, come up with a rough strategy that could've changed the outcome. I'm not expecting anything perfect. Just give me your best effort. Dismissed."

With those words everyone, himself included, began to gather their things before leaving the classroom. Like usual they all gravitated towards those they were closest to or enjoyed discussing things with. In his case it was Dimah, since she was the first real friend that he'd made since coming to Corbulo. He wasn't from a military family like the majority of the students here, he didn't have the motivation others did for becoming a soldier, and because of these facts he'd had trouble fitting in with the others. Dimah had helped him get used to how things worked in the Academy as well as passing on the little tricks to help him succeed in places she thought he might have difficulty in. While he wouldn't say that he no longer had any problems at the Academy, he was no longer the outsider he'd once been.

"So what do you think about Lieutenant Donner?" he asked as they walked to their next class.

"His class is certainly more interesting than I'd thought it'd be," Dimah replied, turning to look at him as she walked. "He certainly has an unconventional way of teaching."

"I find it refreshing," Chyler said with an interested smile. "Sometime I feel like the instructors are teaching using censored material. Content approved by the UNSC. This was… honest. Unfiltered."

"You'd better hope that that's not the case or our first class with him could be our last," Michael said from a few steps ahead. "General Black's big on everyone toeing the party line. If he thinks Lieutenant Donner is saying the 'wrong' things, he could get kicked out."

"I didn't say that he's saying anything wrong or dangerous, Sully!" Chyler argued, getting somewhat cross with the misinterpretation. "I'm just saying he's giving us information and letting us come to our own conclusions. Not giving us his own conclusion and expecting us to accept it."

"Chyler's right," he said, putting his support behind his fellow squad member. "Even the assignment is trying to get us to take the facts and make something with them."

It was an odd but good sensation to know that a teacher of the Academy was giving them such freedom but then came the pressure to do well. A sensation he knew all too well from his father, who regularly sent him messages conveying appraisals of his progress at Corbulo. Despite his greatest efforts to please his father, every message he received came with criticism and the bare minimum of praise. In his last message his father provided a measured praise for his academic scores but was sincerely disappointed in his combat scores. Those scores were poor because Lasky was dragging Hastati squad down with his insistence on finding nonlethal methods to win the exercise and his defiance of anyone who did what soldiers were expected to do.

They were expected to kill who their commanding officer ordered them to kill.

Even if they thought they knew a better way.

Most of the squad believed that the Innies were vicious and beyond any hope of being bargained with to end their violence peacefully.

Some even called them selfish.

Tom, the way he talked and acted, made it sound like the UNSC was not only responsible for lighting the match but also perpetuating the fighting unnecessarily.

He… he didn't know what to think.

He'd been raised on Earth his entire life and had never really had a reason to worry about the Insurrectionists. They were just poorly backed, untrained civilians that stood no chance against the might of the UNSC. That was what he'd been told. However, as he'd grown older and their acts of terrorism had claimed hundreds more lives, he'd come to believe that he had an obligation as a human being to oppose this loss of innocent life. Regardless of whether or not their reasons were good, their methods meant that their goals could never be justified.

The death of innocents was never justified.

While he found Lasky's belief's to be honorable, he did not believe them to be realistic.

The Insurrection had been going on since twenty-four-ninety-four, for over thirty years, and during that time there had been considerable death on both sides. Whatever the reasons had been for beginning of the revolt, the desire for vengeance for those precious ones lost in the fighting now held equal weight in the minds of the Insurrectionists. At the same time the soldiers of the UNSC who'd struggled in the beginning merely to restore order now had their own dead to grieve for and anger to propel them to seek justice against those they deemed responsible.

However if justice could not be obtained, he had a feeling revenge would be good enough.

It would take an unparalleled act to cause both sides to set aside their feelings in the interest of the common good.

What that act might be he could not say.


	8. Of plans and people

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the copyrighted materials contained herein. They are the rightful property of their respective creators and/or associated companies. I make no profit from this whatsoever and I have no intention of changing this at any point in the future. I write because it's fun and because there are those who enjoy reading the stories I have to tell. Therefore I would greatly appreciate it if no legal action were taken against me. I can promise that no amount of money you might get from me would cover your legal fees.

Note 1: Positive reviews will be appreciated, constructive criticism will be considered but not necessarily acted upon and negative/bashing reviews will be ignored.

 _ **An Old Storage Building West of Corbulo Academy, Mid-Evening**_

 _ **Joy-Zero-Seven-Zero's POV**_

"How was your first day of teaching?" she asked upon seeing Alex enter the building.

"Interesting," Alex replied as he took off his ODST helmet. "Status?"

"Daisy and I have finished setting up our base of operations," she replied, looking around to the assembled hardware that they'd been given. "We're tapped into the security grid of the Academy. If anything sets foot within range of the grid we'll know about it."

"Don't be so sure. We still don't know the limits of Covenant science or how good their soldiers are," Alex said, reminding her of the advantage the enemy had over them. "For all we know they have some way to make themselves invisible to the security grid."

As much as she wanted to call that possibility paranoid, she could not.

Far too little time had passed since the people of Harvest had first encountered the Covenant for ONI or UNSC scientists to be able to discern much about what was possible for them. This was because there were so few witnesses and far too little scientific information upon which to formulate anything but conjecture. Still, they were faced with a very real threat to humanity and so they acted as best they could to counter it.

"What about Daisy?" Alex asked as he joined her before the portable computer setup.

"Still scouting the surrounding woods," she replied, recalling Alex's orders regarding SPARTAN-Zero-Two-Three. "Since it's daytime she's had to exercise extra caution in order to not be seen."

"I take it that since you didn't interrupt any of my classes there's been no sign of Covenant presence so far?" Alex asked as he began to familiarize himself with the degree of coverage the Academy's security grid provided.

"None. Either they're active somewhere else on the planet or they haven't arrived yet," she replied, recalling the few times Daisy had checked in with nothing to report.

"Or they might not even be coming," he said as he continued to work. "While this is a possible target, we have nothing to confirm it. We have our orders though. Until they decide to pull us off this assignment we will give it our all."

"That goes without saying," she said, remembering how the Chief had trained them to always do their best.

It was another ten minutes before Alex finished his familiarization with the coverage of the Academy's security grid but she knew that his work wasn't done yet. Her friend soon got up and moved over to the holo-table where, with a few tapped commands, he brought up a map of the Academy and everything within twenty miles of it.

"What're you doing?" she asked even though in her head she had a few theories.

"If the Covenant attack and their goal is to kill as many humans as possible, then one of the first things they'll do is cut off any means of escape." He highlighted certain points on the map before moving onto others. "That means the spaceports and the space elevator of the Academy. If the past encounters between UNSC ships and Covenant ships is any indicator, unless we have at least a five to one advantage over them conventional evacuation will be impossible. The space elevator is a stationary target that they can destroy with a single shot. The transports at the spaceport have the capacity to carry a lot of people but not the speed or maneuverability needed. We need a third option."

While she did concede that both obvious means of getting the planet's population to safety would be primary targets of any population attack, she wasn't sure they were so faulty that a third option would be needed. If the Covenant ships appeared far enough from the planet, there might be time to get at least a few shiploads of people off world. The rest could be sent up to the space station that the elevator was connected to, where there'd be shuttles as well as civilian ships that could be used to at least buy time for UNSC reinforcements to arrive. At the moment only UNSC Hannibal was in orbit but, according to their mission package, there were three other ships within one hour of the planet by slipspace jump. Another two could feasible arrive in three if needed but she had her doubts as to whether or not a ship-to-ship battle would last long enough for that.

"What do you have in mind?" she asked, deciding that so long as it didn't interfere with his duties, Alex could do what he liked.

"We need a location that will allow us to compensate for the enemy numbers, have durable shelter close by and a clearing large enough for a Pelican to land," he replied as he continued to survey potential locations. "The first will allow for small numbers to hold them at bay by forcing them through a bottleneck. The second will be a place for the civilians to hide from air assault and, if we're lucky, it'll be deep enough to keep them safe from ship bombardment. The third will be our linchpin since Pelicans are fast and maneuverable enough to make it into orbit."

"There are almost twenty-five hundred people at the academy. A Pelican at most can hold fifteen, assuming that every seat is filled and five more are standing," she said, doing the mental math in her head. "That would mean at least a hundred and sixty-two Pelicans to get everyone out at once or that many trips by a single Pelican. It'd take too long."

"Not if the UNSC Aegis Fate drops from orbit and hovers close enough to the ground to take on passengers," Alex said, bringing up a summary of the ship on the holo-table. "It's one of the ships that could make it here in an hour. This class of ship isn't usually brought into atmosphere but the design specifications imply it's possible."

That would do the trick.

Assuming that the area usually assigned to Warthogs and Scorpion battle tank was emptied entirely and every single space available was crammed with people, they could load quite a few people in.

Not everyone, of course, and definitely not the totality of the Academy's residents, but a great deal.

Even if they eliminated the Academy faculty and focused on the students, they'd still require at least two ships to get them out, with each one filled to absolute capacity.

"I'll contact Colonel Abernathy and request that at least two Charon-class frigates be less than an hour away from Circinius IV. If we're lucky it'll be two more on top of the Aegis Fate, allowing us to get pretty much everyone out," she said as she began to mentally fabricate the request in just the right way.

"Don't. Contact Doctor Halsey or Chief Mendez on Reach," Alex said, not looking away from the holo-table. "Colonel Abernathy's animosity towards our team makes it less likely that he'll even consider the request, much less send it up the chain of command. With Doctor Halsey or Chief Mendez it'll be taken seriously and with a little luck we'll get the ships we ask for."

"It'll also get us even more animosity from Colonel Abernathy as well as trouble for ignoring the chain of command," she pointed out, knowing that on missions they were to answer to the officer who briefed them and failing that General Black since he was the head of the Academy.

Reaching out to the two people every SPARTAN-II trusted instead was NOT proper protocol.

"If Circinius IV is the Covenant's next target then we'll let the number of people we save explain our actions." Alex said as he spent a greater amount of time than before on the latest location. "If they don't then there's a good chance no harm will have been done and all we'll get is a slap on the wrist."

"It's a bit of a gamble," she said even if she agreed with the two possible outcomes.

"Risk is our business. It's what soldiers deal with on every assignment," Alex said as he expanded the area that'd caught his interest. "We take the risk so others don't have to. If this risk leads to more lives saved than lost, then it's worth taking. If it doesn't and no harm's done then it's not worth wasting time on punishment for."

Ignoring the rules to do the right thing. Typical Alex.

"Found your fallback point?" she asked as her team leader brought up increasing amounts of information on his special location.

"Possibly. Most planets selected for colonization aren't perfect right off away. Terraforming is needed and tapping into any local resources helps lower the cost of construction afterwards," Alex replied as his eyes took in everything. "Than means mines, quarries and sections of local vegetation cleared. Like this one."

A color photo holographically display appeared in the air for her to look at.

"A little over ten miles from the Academy," Alex said, pointing at the map next to the photo. "It's bit of a run but if they're maintaining military fitness standards, the cadets and the faculty should be able to make it."

"You're planning on having them run there? No transport?" she asked, feeling her friend was making it harder than it had to be.

"The Academy doesn't have a lot of Warthogs on base and bringing more in would raise too much attention among the student body and those faculty members without the necessary clearance," he explained while working. "I've requested that General Black find a suitable site for urban warfare war games for my classes but even that won't allow for more than a bus or two. If the Covenant attack, we'll likely have little if any warning and certainly not enough time to get enough ground transport from the closest city. That leaves running."

He had a point.

Outside of certain people at the Academy, no one else knew that they were a possible Covenant target and that's the way the UNSC wanted to keep it. In fact, everything about the Covenant was nonexistent to those outside of a very high level of authorization and, since Harvest was the only planet attacked thus far, news about them could be contained. The UNSC and the UEG didn't want to risk chaos breaking out by letting the existence of the Covenant become public knowledge, so doing anything suspicious like making evacuation preparations or getting additional security wasn't an option. The only way that additional transports would be relocated to the Academy would be if those in charge realized there was no point in maintaining the secret any longer.

That'd likely be when the Covenant ships showed up in the system with a clear course set for the planet.

"I'll have Daisy scout the route and see if she can plant some surprises for uninvited guests," she said, absorbing the topographical information of the area into her mind. "They'll probably need to be tied to radio detonators rather than pressure sensors or trip wires. Less chance of being set off accidentally by locals."

"Leave the ones furthest from the Academy on pressure sensors," Alex said, reading through the information being displayed. "I'll ask General Black to declare that area off limits. If the Covenant have any sort of signal jamming devices, they'll block the detonator signal."

She'd think about it.

Alex's reasoning was a little paranoid but it also containing some logic.

Two qualities found in most good soldiers.

 _ **Corbulo Academy Courtyard, Two Days Later**_

 _ **Alex Zero-Six-Nine's POV**_

"Something caught your eye, Lieutenant?" Colonel Mehaffey asked, noticing him looking at something.

That something was a squad of cadets that he remembered teaching marching across the courtyard, singing the usual marching songs. This was nothing new since it was a common enough practice at military academies both for fitness as well as for punishment. However, from what he could see, Cadet Lasky lagging behind the rest of the squad in a way that implied his body was having trouble keeping pace with the others. Some might mistake it as fatigue but he'd seen enough of that during training on Reach prior to their enhancements to know that wasn't the case. Reaching out with his empathic abilities, he could feel that it was something else as well but he was no doctor and emotions could only tell you so much.

What Cadet Lasky's emotions were telling him was that the young man was feeling a mix of resignation on top of the sharp edge of defiance that he'd seen spark up during class sometimes.

He hadn't really given the young man much thought since this was a temporary assignment and it was unlikely that he'd see the future soldier ever again.

Now, though, he felt mild concern.

"That squad there: who are they?" he asked, nodding towards the squad.

"That is Hastati Squad led by Officer Cadet Orenski. They're something of a problem squad," Colonel Mehaffey replied, sounding and feeling disappointed. "They're a fresh batch of recruits led by one senior cadet."

"What's the problem?" he asked, mildly curious.

"Well, Vickers is a hothead who prefers to take the direct approach to most problems. Chen is from Earth so he doesn't have a lot of ways to connect to his fellow squad members. Sullivan has a hobby of hacking into classified files he thinks we don't know about. Tchakova's mother is ONI and expects her daughter to do the same," she explained, sounding like she knew the issues by heart. "And then there's Cadet Lasky. His brother was a former graduate and managed to get into the ODST. He was aboard a Pelican that was shot down by Insurrectionists on Andesia. His mother is Colonel Lasky, who apparently isn't the most caring mother."

"I take it by how you said Lasky's name that he's the main problem on Hastati Squad?" he asked, filing the information provided for later use.

"All cadets when they first get here have a rough time getting used to the sort of discipline we instill here but they get used to it. As they learn their skills they get sharper and their bodies more able to handle the strain of combat," she replied as the topic of discussion disappeared from sight. "Lasky was like that, too, in the beginning and, while his estranged relationship with his mother might've been a sore point, it didn't affect his studies all that much. Since his brother died, though, he's become moody and defiant. I think he blames the UNSC for his brother's death."

"He thinks the UNSC should've tried harder to make peace with the outer colonies before the Insurrection began?" he said as the cadet's comments in class now made sense.

"And because the negotiators didn't try hard enough, the Insurrection broke out, leading to the death of his brother," she said, sounding pleased that he'd caught on so quickly. "Since then he's made repeated efforts to find nonviolent methods of resolving situations during combat exercises and disregards orders that don't give those methods a chance. As a result Hastati Squad has the lowest combat scores in the Academy. He's also making enemies with his opinions, both in his own squad as well as with the rest of the cadets. I know he can be a good soldier and so do a lot of the other teachers but he doesn't. He thinks the only reason he's here is because his mother's not giving him a choice."

He was no stranger to some of those issues, training to be a SPARTAN had exposed him to all of them, so he couldn't hold it against the cadet for feeling the way he did. However he could hold it against the Academy cadet that he was causing trouble for others with his actions. Throughout Chief Mendez's training he'd learned how all it took was one person to lead an entire group to disaster, and if Cadet Lasky took his problems with him when he left the Academy, people would die.

"I'll talk to him about it," he said, deciding that he'd find the cadet once classes let out for the evening.

"I hope you have better luck than me. I've been trying to reason with him all year to no avail," she said, sounding like she'd owe him one if he succeeded. "Now you said you had some security concerns?"

"Yes, Ma'am. While I understand that this location does not warrant security past a certain level, I believe that steps should be taken to make the Academy siege ready," he replied, knowing he'd have to word things carefully. "As you know this school is currently occupied by the children of several important UNSC and ONI officers, any one of whom could be used as leverage by the Insurrectionists. While current security measures might be enough to deal with their civilian members, I'm sure you're aware that UNSC members have defected to their side in the past. A properly trained team of them could render the defenses here useless."

"What do you propose?" she asked, sounding neither for nor against increased security.

"Portable armored barricades set up at choke points around the main buildings capable of being activated by both faculty and students. M41's placed on all four corners of each rooftop," he replied, pointing out the locations as he spoke of them.

"Aren't you going a little overboard?" she asked, sounding a little incredulous. "If the Insurrectionists were planning anything that'd need M41's and armored barricades to stop them, the Academy would already be shut down and the cadets sent home. Even if we didn't shut down, we don't have the manpower to effectively hold this location against a threat that serious."

Point.

He'd hoped that the faculty member would just evaluate his requests based more on the feasibility of acquiring and installing what he'd asked for rather than the probability of being needed. From the standpoint of current credible threats to the Academy and its residents, the upgrades to local security that he'd suggested weren't justifiable. They could also fall into the same category as Joy's suggestion about acquiring more transport vehicles for the trip to his fallback position. If his additions were greenlit by General Black, the students and the uninformed faculty members would know something was off and begin asking questions.

"Perhaps then just the M41's mounted on collapsible tripods and concealed within equipment crates until needed on the rooftops?" he asked, hoping to at least get her support for that upgrade. "It's the one thing any Insurrectionist infiltration team wouldn't be expecting and it might be enough to get them to surrender quicker."

"I'll take the matter up with General Black but, unless you can provide compelling evidence, I doubt he'll approve the changes," she said before looking at her watch. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a class to teach."

"Of course," he said with an acknowledging nod.

Seeing the woman walk away, he chastised himself for potentially creating suspicion where there hadn't been any before. He'd spoken with Daisy about her scouting missions of the immediate area and he hadn't been happy with the possible scenarios that came to mind. Putting aside the possibilities where the Covenant settled for orbital bombardment or other forms of death from above, the Academy was not set up to provide satisfactory defensive points. If the enemy landed troops so that they could eliminate humanity in a more personal manner, the materials used in the buildings and the layout of the campus would make defending the central campus area difficult. He'd already seen the video feed attached to John's report about the events surrounding Sam's death, so he knew Covenant weaponry could melt through Mjolnir armor.

That meant that the body armor worn by security forces already stationed at the Academy and even the ODST armor he was wearing at the moment wouldn't fare any better. The stone and concrete walls about the campus might be enough to take two or three direct hits in the same spot but eventually they'd burn through to the people on the other side. Glass would be nothing. Civilian metals would be nothing. The gaps between the buildings and the lines of sight that existed would make anyone defending this place an easy target.

As a result of his findings he'd wanted to make it easier to hold back the Covenant ground forces in order to give the cadets and faculty more time to escape.

Sadly there was a limit to what could be done so long as the existence of the genocidal aliens remained limited to General Black and his team.

 _How can I do better? How can I improve our odds?_ he asked himself as he began to make his own way towards his class involving urban warfare.

The only answer he could come up with was to make his little training sessions in the urban area General Black had managed to find for him something that happened every three to four days. If he could increase the skill and strategic thinking of the cadets even by a little, it'd increase the odds of them being able to defend themselves should the Covenant attack.

He'd have to be hard on them to get the desired results but, if his brothers and sisters could do it before their enhancements, then he was sure the cadets would manage.

They'd have to.

 _ **The Woods Surrounding Corbulo Academy**_

 _ **Late Evening**_

 _ **Daisy Zero-Two-Three's POV**_

"So what do you think?" Alex asked, lightly gesturing with the barrel of his MA37 assault rifle.

Looking at the area, she immediately noticed the stone rock face that extended fifty feet up and formed a semi-circle around the area they were in. There were hand and footholds scattered about it, meaning that it was not impossible to climb up but it would require someone with experience to do quickly. There were a few scattered outcroppings of stone but less than half of them were tall enough to be called adequate cover even for the average UNSC soldier. To the right side of the rock face there was a mining tunnel that, according to Alex's information, extended a full three miles down and had apparently been used to harvest titanium ore. While it'd been almost completely stripped bare, records indicated that there were still trace patches of it throughout the tunnel. The clearing itself was fairly large but she wasn't sure if it'd be clear enough for what Alex had in mind. A Charon-class frigate, while not the largest UNSC vessel, it was still pretty big.

As for the bottleneck entrance to the area leading to the rock face… she had concerns about its strategic effectiveness with regards to what might happen.

"What happens if the Covenant climb up on the sides and get behind us?" she asked, pointing to where the rock face dropped close enough to the ground that most humanoids could get onto it.

"They won't," Alex replied, not sounding concerned. "As soon as we get here I plan to have snipers and spotters at the top of the rock face. Their job will be to keep enemy forces from taking the high ground while eliminating enemy commanders once identified. Joy will be one of them."

That pacified her somewhat since Joy was one of the best snipers of the SPARTAN-II program. If Joy was up there the enemy would need to flood the low areas with troops in the hopes that one of them would succeed.

Looking at the top of the rock face, she looked to see what cover, if any, would be available for the snipers since retaliatory fire was inevitable once their positions were identified. She didn't like it since, from what she could see, even if the snipers were prone there wasn't anything substantial to hide behind or make incoming fire less likely to find its mark.

"The snipers will need more cover," she said, pointing out the flaw. "Any shooter with skill would be able to hit them."

"Don't worry, I have that covered," Alex said, sounding like he had something in mind.

She almost asked what but stopped herself, deciding she'd rather not know in case it backfired on him later.

"It's not ideal but it's also not meant to be permanent," Joyce said, submitting her opinion of the location. "It only has to last until we've gotten as many people off planet as we can."

She agreed with the SRS99 wielding SPARTAN on that point.

She'd already surveyed the entire area surrounding the Academy, both to familiarize herself with the area as well as to find locations suitable for various strategies and tactics. One of the first things that she determined conclusively once she was finished was that there was little if anything that could stand up to more than one hit from the plasma weapons of the Covenant. From what Alex had told her, the Academy grounds weren't much better off but, provided enough advance warning was given, it might hold for a little while.

All in all there was no way that the Academy could be repurposed into a fortress without the requisition of significant resources and sufficient time.

General Black, while not being the obstruction she was concerned he'd be, had only grudgingly agreed to the placement of M41s on the rooftops of the main Academy buildings. Two crates of ammunition would be allocated to each gun, providing each location with sufficient rounds to put a sizeable dent in advancing enemy forces. However the man had also made it clear that if the Covenant did attack, his first priority would be to evacuate as many people up the Tether as possible. Alex remained silent on the matter despite having spoken to both her as well as Joy about the likelihood of the Tether being a prime Covenant initial target. She could only guess that he'd decided not to press his luck with the head of the Academy by proposing his fallback plan and that meant this venture tonight was to improve his proposal for later delivery.

She was about to say more when a chirp through the com-gear in their helmets, indicating that there was an incoming transmission.

"Rogue Team this is General Black. Please respond," General Black said, causing everyone to drop the fallblack plan for now.

"Sierra-Zero-Six-Nine here, sir," Alex responded, bringing his MA37 up into a ready position. "Go ahead."

"The planetary sensor net just picked up a blip entering the atmosphere five clicks northwest of your position. Current sensor data does not support that it is natural phenomena," General Black said with full command authority. "Given the reason your team was assigned here, I am ordering you to the estimated point of impact to investigate. If you find conclusive evidence that it is Covenant in origin you are to notify me immediately and then eliminate all hostiles in the area. Is that understood?"

"Sir, yes sir!" Alex replied just like they'd been drilled to respond by the Chief. "Rogue team is on the move."

"Good. Sending the impact coordinates to your HUDs," Black said before a waypoint popped up on the helmet HUD's navigation display. "Good hunting."

"You heard the man, team," Alex said, looking at Joy then at her. "Let's move."

With that the three of them broke into a steady running, making for the impact coordinates as swiftly as they could without wasting needless energy. If the object was just a Covenant probe then Alex would likely have them destroy it or order Joy to hack its systems to disable it so it could be transferred to ONI for analysis. However if it turned out to be a Covenant scouting force, termination of all members was of course mandatory since to let them live for too long could result in intel being sent back to their leaders.

If evidence was discovered to suggest that a transmission of some sort had already been sent before they got within weapons range, all hostiles would still be eliminated but they would also notify General Black immediately.

The sooner the man could get the evacuation underway the better because fighting the Covenant was not a wise strategic choice.

Following standard combat travel protocol, she kept her M45 Tactical Shotgun pointed down and away from her team but made sure that she could have it up in a second. With all the team training sessions she'd been in with Alex and Joy they'd all pretty much settled into the combat roles that suited them best. Alex took the lead, giving orders and making sure that the enemy focused their attention on him so the rest of them could position themselves properly. Joy hung back, taking out high value targets while being the metaphorical eyes in the back of their heads when a hostile tried to take them from the rear.

As for her she was meant to break up any attempts at a coordinated counterattack while moving in and out of cover quickly enough to be very difficult to hit. Her weapon meant that she would have to get close in order for it to be effective but, according to her knowledge of the area and the coordinates of the impact point, cover should be readily available.

How well the cover would stand up to Covenant fire was unknown for the time being.

With the enhanced speed of a SPARTAN-II they managed to get close enough for the Mjolnir sensors to touch the impact coordinates and immediately red contacts popped up. Alex raised his hand, signaling for them to stop moving before silently ordering Joy to head for the best elevated location close by. Next he told her with hand signals that he would move to the right of the impact zone while she would move to the left. Flicking the coms switch inside her helmet to signify that she understood her orders and would obey, she did just that.

Without further delay Rogue Team divided to move to their selected locations before waiting for the signal to attack.

What would that signal be?

Alex opening fire and taking out whichever hostile looked to be most important of the entire group.

 _ **Joyce Zero-Seven-Zero's POV**_

Placing herself into a steady and proper prostrated position for a sniper, she looked at the red contact blips representing enemy soldiers, burning their movement speed and paths into her memory. Closing her eyes, imagining the likely layout of the impact area starting with the depth of the crater and then moving on to the damage caused by the impact, before finally how the enemy would likely be moving. Using all the information that had been provided on the Covenant she tried to pair what had been in John's enemy analysis report with the movement of the red contact blips. Once she believed that she had an accurate image in her mind of the target area she opened her eyes and looking through the scope of her SRS99.

Immediately she spotted several distinctly nonhuman forms but most of them were out of focus so she quickly doped her scope to bring them into focus.

It didn't take long and, once her hand was back in proper firing position, she evaluated what she saw so she'd know who Alex would attack and where her first shot should go.

The first one to catch her attention was a tall alien with a split jaw wearing an ornate helmet with incorporated blue lights matching the ones on its shoulder pauldrons. It also had armor on its torso and fragmented armor on its limbs with minimal gaps in between. She didn't think that she'd have any trouble putting a round in those gaps and the mouth was completely uncovered from what she could see.

However she didn't let that go to her head.

If Covenant ships had energy shields, it was feasible that their troops likewise had a form of energy shielding to compliment the protection their metal armor provided. Should that be the case, she'd need to find out quickly how many shots it'd take to bring down those shields so she could eliminate the target.

Moving her rifle ever so slightly she inspected the other hostiles.

There were two bird-like aliens, one on either side of the one with the split jaw, with armor covering only their torsos and legs, leaving everything else exposed. One was armed with what looked to be some sort of pistol or submachine gun but it had several pink crystals sticking up out of its top casing. Their movements suggested excitability or hyper awareness, meaning that they would be the quickest to lay down fire on her position after her second shot.

The last three members of the enemy party were apparently the runts of the bunch, being only four feet tall and wearing some sort of tank on their backs connected to masks that covered their faces. The weapons they wielded looked to be a pistol as well but of a different type than the one wielded by the bird-like alien since there were no pink crystals peeking out of the top.

All in all she felt pretty safe in classifying this group as a scouting party since they seemed to be a little too lightly armed for direct combat. If the weapons of the small ones and the bird-like ones were anything like UNSC weapons, they were pistols or small submachine guns at most. Not the sort of thing you brought when you planned on taking on a large number of enemies or prolonged confrontations.

If this was indeed the case then they needed to take them down before they could report back to their superiors that humans were present on the planet they'd landed on. It was still unknown how big or how small a human presence needed to be before the Covenant would dispatch ships to begin the extermination. If they did the job of proper scouts then they'd wait until they'd at least scouted a thirty klik radius before transmitting a report to their superiors. That meant that if they could kill this enemy group swiftly enough, they could at least buy some time before their comrades felt assets should be deployed to investigate the 'disappearance' of their scouts.

Time that could be used to evacuate civilians and perhaps prepare a 'warm welcome' for the Covenant forces that came looking.

Adjusting her aim so that the first shot she fired would be through the head of the first bird-like alien, she chambered a round and waited.

BBRRRRPP! BBRRPP! BBBRRRRRPP!

As soon as the bursts of automatic fire from Alex's rifle shattered the silence of the wild she took a deep breath, held it and then fired her first shot. The hundred and fourteen millimeter round crossed the distance in the blink of an eye, blowing a hole in the head of the hostile and causing it to drop to the ground. She waited only long enough to confirm the hit before moving to her victim's friend but, just as she fired, an energy shield popped into existence, blocking the round. There was a shift in color of the energy shield and she took this to mean that it had lost some of its strength, so she sent another round at it, successfully seeing it disappear and exposing the last of the bird aliens. To the creature's credit it did get a chance to return fire with its weapon but its shots were random and just in her general direction.

One shot later and the last bird-like alien was dead, allowing her to shift her gaze to the smaller ones but, from what she saw, she needn't have been concerned.

CHOOM!

CHOOM!

CHOOM!

Daisy was using her shotgun to good effect striking down the small ones one after another while using the surrounding area effectively for cover between shots. From what she could see the weapons the little ones were armed with were capable of damaging the trees and the rocks Daisy took cover behind but they were not able to pierce through them in one go. So long as her sister SPARTAN kept this in mind and didn't linger, the tiny terrors wouldn't last very much longer.

Alex, on the other hand, seemed to be facing a real challenge.

With some sort of energy blade the helmeted alien was countering Rogue team's leader step-for-step and, while some assault rifle shots were getting through, they were bouncing off a personal energy shield, confirming one of Doctor Halsey's theories.

Deciding where her aid was best served she adjusted her position so she could focus on the largest alien as well as the area around it in anticipation of its movements. Chambering a fresh round she followed her new target's movements with her crosshairs to get a feel for them as well as to learn when her best chance to fire would be. Once she had the tempo of its movements down she waited until it paused in its efforts to use its energy blade to block a burst of fire from Alex's assault rifle and sent a shot of her own aimed at its head. The round hit its mark but the energy shield did not go down as she'd hoped, but rather flared violently before once more vanishing from sight as it had with Alex's shots. Not waiting for it to decide to run or duck behind cover she chambered another range and sent it at her target, this time aiming for where she figured its spine would be.

This time the shield definitely failed, leaving only armor to keep the alien safe and, according to John's report, their ammunition was quite capable of piercing it.

Normally this was a sort of situation one would expect the large alien to make a run for it until it could affect repairs to its shields or until the combat topography was more in its favor. To her surprise, though, it actually increased the zealousness of its attacks, looking as though it was determined to take as many of Rogue team as it could with it before it died. Keeping her composure despite this disturbing development she tried to reacquire the target but its movements were savage, instinctual, and aggressive, drastically increasing the risk of friendly fire landing on Alex. Her rounds were armor piercing high velocity types that'd been sent to make sure she could pierce the enemy's armor, but if it went through too well it could come out the other side and hit Alex.

She could tell that her friend was trying to put some distance between himself and the alien to allow her to take it out but whether the hostile realized his intent or was simply that determined to kill him she did not know. It was then, though, that Alex showed a side of himself that she didn't like when, instead of retreating or trying to go around the alien, he instead charged right at it, assault rifle blazing. The alien brought up its energy weapon to block the rounds that would've hit vital areas, however that was what Alex had been counting on from the beginning. With a leap so high it was only possible for someone with Mjolnir armor and SPARTAN-II enhancements, the team leader of Rogue team soared over his opponent at speed, remaining well out of effective weapon's reach at all times. His efforts did not end when he touched down but rather continued as he immediately went into a roll upon landing, putting even more distance between him and the alien.

 _Thanks, Alex,_ she thought as she lined up a center torso shot even as the alien began to turn around to resume its onslaught against Rogue leader.

BOOM!

With one shot a hole was made in the alien's armor and, judging by the blood spray in back, the round had gone right through. This brought the alien down to one knee and there were definite indications that she'd damaged something vital internally, but it was still living and still looking like it wanted to fight. Was this alien some sort of berserker or, as the sole message they'd received from the Covenant implied, some sort of religious zealot? She certainly hoped that there weren't many of them in the enemy army otherwise they were in for in for an even tougher fight than she'd originally theorized.

Even from how far away she was she could hear as the alien said something in its native language and, judging from the passion in each word, it was still full of spirit.

Fortunately Alex and Daisy knew how to take care of that.

A coordinated attack with both shotgun and assault rifle quickly finished off the last of the aliens, apparently leaving them free and clear.

She used the word 'apparently' because there was currently no clearly defined edge to Covenant technology or detailed information on the composition of their scouting teams. For all she knew there could still be one or two hostiles in the area with both of them invisible or under some sort of holographic cover to conceal their presence. Using her scope she began to look about every tactically sound spot within fifty yards of where the other aliens had been, scrutinizing every spot for signs of concealed enemy presence. One after another came up clear until, in the end, she had no credible reason not to give the all clear click with her helmet's internal com-switch.

Daisy gave hers a few moments later and then Alex provided his.

Rising from her prone position she advanced towards the rest of her team but kept herself on edge just in case.

"General Black, this is Sierra Zero-Six-Nine. Do you copy?" Alex asked, tapping into his helmet's communications gear.

"I read you, Zero-Six-Nine. What'd you find?" General Black asked with a fairly strong signal.

"Confirmed Covenant presence. Seven hostiles. All terminated," Alex replied as they looked about the impact sight. "One small vessel that brought them here but doesn't look like it'd have taken them anywhere else afterwards. Maybe something like an ODST drop pod."

"Meaning there's likely to be someone coming to pick them up eventually," General Black said grimly since the man likely knew that this solidly put the planet from a probable target to a certain one.

Unless the Covenant was truly heartless when it came to their scouting parties, there was no way that they'd have left this bunch to live out their days in exile. Even without any sort of communication to confirm the presence of humans, a missing scouting team would at the very least warrant a follow up investigation team of higher quality. It was only logical. Once that ship arrived, it'd be plain as day that humans lived on the planet and an invasion force would follow.

"Return to your temporary HQ," General Black ordered with the seriousness the situation required. "I'll meet you there for debriefing. General Black out."

"You know what this means, right?" she asked, arriving to stand next to the others.

"Yeah. My fallback plan just went from paranoid preparation to a necessary option," Alex replied before shouldering his assault rifle. "Let's get moving, Rogue team. Double time it!"

Putting action to word the three of them made for the building that'd been set aside to be their temporary HQ at full SPARTAN speed. Keeping their presence a secret didn't matter anymore.

The Covenant were coming and they had no idea how much time they had to prepare.

 _ **Rogue Team Temporary HQ, Three Hours Later**_

 _ **Alex Zero-Six-Nine's POV**_

"We might not have as much time as I'd thought," General Black said via the holographic vid-screen from the holo-table. "I sent a follow up team with an expert in engineering and space travel to the impact sight. He confirms that the Covenant forces came here in a craft designed similarly to an ODST drop pod but with much greater range, not to mention limited propulsion capabilities. Without a slipspace drive of its own there's no way it came here without help."

"That means there has to be at least one Covenant ship in the system already that the craft launched from," he said, completing the train of thought. "If that's so then why hasn't it attacked? For people determined to wipe out humanity, they aren't very enthusiastic about it."

"It's possible they have orders to wait until they hook up with additional forces," Joy suggested from her position next to the table. "According to the report provided by Staff Sergeant Johnson, they had a ship in orbit that could've easily bombarded the surface to wipe out the human population. Instead they chose to send down troops to exterminate the population in person."

"So either the crew of the ship that sent the craft lacks sufficient numbers for the job or lack the skills to be trusted with the task?" he proposed as he considered various scenarios. "The scouting party could've been intended to gather advance intel for the attack. It's too bad no one knows the Covenant language well enough to fabricate a false report. Might make for some interesting possibilities."

"Indeed it could ,'Donner', but since that isn't the case we'll have to make do with what we have." General Black said, sounding like he would've liked to spread some lies too. "I'm ordering a complete lockdown on all communications off world. Nothing in or out. With a little luck they'll assume this to be the work of their scouting party and it'll allay any concerns they might have. If not then at least they won't know that we know anything leading to them making mistakes."

"Might I recommend, sir, that the backup ships waiting in nearby systems move closer to decrease their response times once the fighting starts?" he said, wanting to maximize the odds of the evacuation being successful. "Depending on the size of the reinforcements the Covenant ship plans on receiving, we may need them to buy time for the evacuation."

"I was under the impression that SPARTANs were made of sterner stuff, Zero-Six-Nine," General Black said, sounding disapproving of the recommendation.

"We SPARTANs can handle ourselves, sir, and the soldiers stationed on the planet can no doubt acquit themselves well in a fight," he said, trying to make it clear his idea wasn't born of cowardice. "Nevertheless, it has been proven that, in a ship-to-ship fight, the Covenant have a distinct technological advantage over our ships while we can barely scratch one of their ships. There'll be little point in holding our own on the ground if we get backed into a corner because they've cut off our escape routes."

"Agreed," General Black said, satisfied that his concerns were for nothing. "I've already sent a request that the ships an hour away from here via slipspace be moved to half an hour away. However the impression I got from the initial reply was that there was concern that Covenant sensors might be sophisticated enough to pick them up if they got too close. My request will still be considered but we should plan for the possibility that the Hannibal is all we'll have for at least an hour."

Not good.

Ever since he'd arrived at the Academy he'd spent a portion of his free time running simulations, both in his head as well as on the holo-table, to see how long they'd last if the Covenant attacked. With what he'd had then he put the best case scenario at forty-five minutes if they stood their ground and almost an hour and a half if they retreated to the limited cover that the woods provided. After he'd come up with his fallback position he'd gone through the best ways of escorting the Academy population there, then holing up until evac arrived. With all the variables that needed to be considered it was impossible to come up with a definite number but, assuming that they were able to get everyone armored up and armed before the enemy surrounded their position… five hours. Tops.

Now that he had an idea of what they'd be facing and multiplying the numbers of the scout forces to an extermination force.

They'd be lucky if they managed three.

"I've asked the Captain of the Hannibal to move his ship into orbit directly above the Academy as subtly as he can. The moment the Covenant makes their move he'll deploy two thirds of his ODSTs to the surface to defend the Academy while we evacuate up the space elevator. The Hannibal will defend the top of the tether as long as they can," General Black said, keep his tone even. "Once the reinforcements arrive and get the enemy's attention, transfer of cadets to the Hannibal will begin, filling every shuttle and Pelican to capacity before sending them over. We'll keep doing that until it's no longer safe to do so or the Hannibal is at risk of losing its ability to jump to slipspace. At that point the Hannibal will depart until another opportunity to ferry over evacuees to an available ship appears. I'm not going to lie to you, SPARTANs, we're not going to be able to save everyone."

"We understand, sir," he said grimly, knowing the realities of the situation. "Without more definitive intel on Covenant ship capabilities, evacuation options are limited. That being said though, sir, I believe it would be a mistake to use the space elevator once the Covenant ships enter firing range."

"Explain," General Black ordered, sounding like he wanted the reason to be a good one.

"Based on available intel on the Covenant, they've made it pretty clear they want all humans dead. If they plan on attacking this planet, it's only logical that they would act to cut off all means of retreat in order to make sure no one escapes," he explained, putting his thoughts out for the officer to hear. "Targeting the space elevator and the spaceport would be among their top priorities. The elevator wasn't designed to take hits from plasma weaponry so I doubt it'd take more than one hit to bring it down. That being the case, the second we have reason to believe they're targeting it, we should abandon it as a means of evacuation."

"Without the space elevator evacuation is impossible," General Black said, not completely opposing the facts but rather pointing out the lack of alternatives.

"Not necessarily, sir. The Charon class frigate Aegis Fate is an hour out by slipstream and she's rated for atmosphere," he explained, laying out his fallback plan, "Rogue team's scouted out a fallback position with ample room for her to set down. Provided she empties her bays and no one minds being packed tight, we can get a lot of people out. More if the higher ups can reposition another Charon or two close enough to make a difference."

"Is the position defensible?" General Black asked, looking like he was considering the option.

"A natural bottleneck, sir, with a rock face at our back and an elevated position for snipers," he replied, laying out the advantages of the location. "There's also a mine entrance deep enough to provide some protection from ship bombardment if it came to that. Miners used to pull titanium ore out of it and there're still some bits in the rock."

"Ten miles out?" General Black asked with some recognition.

"Yes, sir," he replied promptly.

"I know the place. It's a good place to hold up," General Black said, sounding like he was leaning towards accepting the fallback position. "But ten miles is a bit much for a running firefight. What makes you think we'd even make it that far before Covenant forces cut us down?"

"Two things. First I can have Daisy utilize what's in the armory to set traps and explosives on either side of the route to the location. We'll stay on the road and the Covenant will likely try to come at us from the sides, walking right into the surprises," he replied, emboldened by the possibility of his plan being accepted. "Secondly, the additions I suggested be made to the rooftops of the Academy. If the ODSTs from the Hannibal can keep the Covenant's attention on them long enough, it should give the rest of us a big enough lead to make it. Most of us, anyway."

"Most of us?" General Black asked, showing that he might have an issue with that part.

"Sadly this is war, sir, and with the current restrictions involved directed at keeping knowledge of the Covenant out of the public consciousness, we will lose people," he replied, making it clear he wished for more but realized that that was impossible. "With such large group of people to relocate, the enemy won't need to bother aiming. They can just shoot into the crowd. Short of getting some APCs relocated here, the best we can do is make sure there's a set of armor for everyone, as well as some kind of weapon."

"I'll see about having the Hannibal send down any surplus armor and weapons they might have while making it look routine. We can call it a training exercise to show the cadets what real armor feels like," General Black said, sounding like he hoped things wouldn't turn out too poorly. "At first light take Hastati squad up the road to the fallback position. Keep them at the pace they'll need to go in order to reach it alive. I'll let their squad leader know that they can forgo the cryo phase for this exercise."

Made sense.

Hastati squad was considered by many to be the weakest in the Academy. Finding out how well they could maintain the required pace, as well as how long they could manage it, would give him a realistic ETA. Once he had that he could make educated guesses for how long it'd take for Covenant forces to catch up to them as well as when they'd arrive at the fallback position. Depending on how quickly the Covenant forces could catch up to them, he might have to place Joy someplace with the best view of the road and have her slow them down.

One way or another, the time for preparation was drawing to a close.

 _ **Hastati Squad's Locker Room, Morning**_

 _ **Chyler Silva's POV**_

"Good morning, Hastati squad," Lieutenant Donner said as he walked deliberately before the squad. "Today, at the request of General Black, we're going to be doing something a little more… vigorous… than just sitting in class. In order to give you a more realistic idea of what soldiers who fought in urban environments went through, you will be putting on real military armor, carrying real military weapons and moving at combat pace until I say otherwise."

That certainly explained the containers that'd been placed in front of their lockers.

She and the other members of the squad had been surprised when there'd been no zero six hundred wake up call for their final combat exercise of the term. When they'd been summoned to their locker room two hours later they found their guest instructor in urban warfare standing alongside squad leader Orenski and received yet another surprise.

If this pace kept up, everyone was going to be on edge.

"Your armor and your weapon loadouts have been determined based on your combat scores and your accuracy on the shooting range. The same has been done with your armor," Lieutenant Donner said, nodding towards the containers. "You've got ten minutes to get armored up and your weapons primed for use. I'll be waiting outside."

With that the ODST, already armored up and armed, left via the building's exterior door, leaving them to deal with the change in their usual routine.

"You hear him, cadets!" Orenski declared in her usual drill sergeant tone of voice. "Armor up! We got TEN minutes and you will NOT embarrass me by making me late in front of an ODST lieutenant!"

Snapped out of their surprise, they moved to the containers in front of their assigned lockers and popped them open. Looking inside she could immediately tell that the armor inside was a few levels above what they usually wore for combat exercises. Their usual armor might have looked like the real thing but they were not made out of the same materials. They were only designed to handle the stun rounds and, via an internal system, simulate the likely damage of a real round. The same with the helmets: they were imitations of the real thing meant only to give cadets a glimpse of what they'd experience after they graduated.

Reaching into the container she pulled out the torso armor, first throwing it over her head before securing each strap until she was certain that it wouldn't bounce about or come off. Next came the pieces for her arms and legs meant to prevent disabling shots while allowing full range of necessary motion. Last came the helmet that concealed the entire face and more comprehensively protected the head than the usual academy headgear. As soon as it was connected to her torso armor, a line of light panned from the top of the visor to the bottom before the HUD popped up, showing the motion tracker in the lower left and a blank weapon slot in the upper right.

It was as she saw the bottom of the container that she beheld something she had not expected to see. The MA5Dassault rifle was nothing new since it looked almost identical to the ones loaded with stun rounds, with the exception of a few differences likely to accommodate the real ammunition. What did surprise her were the three M9 HE-DP grenades and the container of bio-foam, all of which were attached to an equipment belt. Lieutenant Donner hadn't been kidding when he'd said that they would be using real UNSC gear for this exercise.

Looking at the others, she could tell that they were meeting the new armor with a mix of excitement and intimidation since it was likely a lot sooner to be wearing it than they'd expected. As for weapons they'd each been issued, it looked like she was the only one that had anything resembling what they were used to. Squad leader Orenski had a XBR55 Battle Rifle, Vickers had a M90 shotgun, JJ had a M6D Magnum Sidearm, Sully had an M45 tactical shotgun, Dimah had a M6F handgun and Lasky wielded a MA37 Assault rifle. It was truly a varied selection of armaments but, to her recollection, they were the weapons her teammates got the best accuracy ratings at the range.

"Yeah! Now this is the real deal!" Vickers exclaimed, sounding like he was pumped for what lay ahead.

She had to admit that a part of her was liking the new gear and, when she saw the weapon and the ammo counter appear on her HUD, she knew today was going to be a day of firsts.

Once everyone was armored up and had their weapons at the ready they moved briskly in line out of the exterior door to where Lieutenant Donner was waiting for them.

"A little under ten minutes. Good," Donner said, holding the same battle rifle as Orenski. "As you get more familiar with the gear, I expect you to get armored up quicker. If an enemy force were to attack the Academy you'd likely have less than five minutes to prepare. I expect each of you to work towards that goal and, for the more ambitious among you, beating it. Now fall in behind me and keep pace!"

With that Lieutenant Donner fell into a pace that she'd call a light run, taking them to the northern road out of the central Academy grounds and into the one that snaked through the surrounding woods. The first thing she noticed as she ran was that the combined weight of the armor, weapons and spare ammunition were definitely heavier than what they used during combat exercises by ten to twenty pounds. It made running more arduous but she was determined to do the best she could to graduate from the academy with the highest marks possible.

She didn't look at the others but she could hear them and, while it sounded like they were managing to keep up, it sounded like Tom was having some difficulty breathing. Nothing that had her overly worried but she would suggest when they got back that he work on his cardio training and proper breathing technique. Soldiers could be dropped anywhere, from their enemy's doorstop to several kilometers away, and be made to reach a specified waypoint within a very specific timeframe. This meant not just maintaining a certain pace but also making sure you weren't exhausted by the time you arrived.

It was about twenty-two minutes later that something happened that she hadn't anticipated.

Out of nowhere a place of plywood the shape of a human popped up from the ground vegetation.

"Hostile right!" Donner yelled just like they did when an opposing team member appeared.

And just like they'd been trained to do they adjusted the aim of their weapons and opened fire. The target shook under the barrage for a few minutes before falling back down.

"Tip number one cadets: ammunition is not infinite. You keep pulling the trigger, you WILL use it up," Donner said as he resumed the pace they'd been going at. "Unless an opportunity to resupply is imminent DO NOT waste your rounds. Fight SMART."

It was a common sense rule but it was one that a lot of cadets forgot. They often thought that, since they weren't really on the battlefield, they didn't need to worry about things like running out of ammunition since there were no real consequences.

In a real firefight, running out of bullets made staying alive a lot harder.

"Tip number two: you're on a team. ACT like it!" Donner said, sounding perfectly fine at the pace they were running. "Each one of your weapons has a different effective range. Battle rifles: medium to long range, maxing out at nine hundred and fifty meters. Shotguns: close range. M6D: short to medium range. MA37 assault rifle: medium range. Remember this when future targets pop up. I only want to hear the right weapon for the right range firing when the hostile shows itself. UNDERSTOOD?"

"Sir, yes sir!" Hastati squad yelled in response to their teacher's question.

From that point on their actions became more structured, more defined, as one or two of them fired while the others kept their eyes focused on the areas where their weapons could do the most good. From what she could tell there were no patterns to where the targets would pop up or when they'd reveal themselves, meaning everyone needed to stay sharp and be ready to shoot when necessary.

It was when they were a little over forty minutes into their run when a new target sprung out of the bush, revealing itself to be a Warthog with a machine gun mounted on back.

"Hostile vehicle. GRENADE!" Donner called out, no doubt waiting to see who'd make the throw.

By this point, though, they'd all gotten a feel for the lieutenant's preferred method of doing things so it was JJ who took a grenade from his belt and threw it at the wooden Warthog. When the explosive detonated not like the paint filled ones they'd used in their training sessions but like the real deal used to kill large numbers of Innies, all of them were shaken.

"Try to drop it a little closer to the target," Donner said, once again pulling them into a steady run. "Grenades do their damage via concussive force and the fragmented casing propelled at lethal speeds. They do no good if the target is not close enough. This goes double when used against lightly armored targets."

It was a little over twenty-five minutes later that they reached an open area that looked like it'd been used as either a quarry or mine years ago. When Donner came to a stop and there were no visible targets anywhere within eyesight, she felt satisfied to say that they'd reached their destination. Relaxing her grip on her weapon a bit, she let her gaze drift over the rest of the Hastati squad to find that they looked as tired as she felt at the moment. Whether it was the distance or the presence of unexpected targets this exercise had been more taxing than their usual combat exercises.

"Eighty-two minutes. Not bad, cadets," Donner said as he put his weapon into a more relaxed position. "Keep in mind that this is the pace and enemy encounter rate for an area where enemy presence is considered light. Assuming we have the time, I intend to show you how hard you'll have to work when things get REALLY tough. Odds are you won't make it on the first try, or even within the first five tries, but as long as you work at it you will get better."

Her mind shook a bit when she tried to figure out what a really tough run would be like but she reassured herself that they wouldn't be expecting her to become that proficient right away. They were still cadets, after all, freshmen, even, so they likely had until graduation to become good enough to handle the tough stuff.

"Now take twenty minutes to rest up and hydrate," Donner said as he pulled an open cooler out from behind a large rock fragment. "When we run back to the Academy I expect you to shave at least three minutes off your time."

She only just managed to keep her groan of dread on the inside.

The others didn't fare quite as well.

 _ **Rogue Team Temporary HQ, Late Afternoon**_

 _ **Daisy Zero-Two-Three's POV**_

"So what's the prognosis?" she asked after Alex had a chance to sit down.

"From the moment of departure to arriving at the fallback point it took Histati squad seventy-six minutes. That was their best time," Alex replied as he took his ODST helmet off. "Assuming the other squads match or undercut that time, the soonest we can expect to get there is seventy minutes if we don't plan on leaving anyone behind."

"Not great but not bad either," she said, remembering the time the SPARTANs set for a ten kilometer run before their enhancements. "Now all we need to figure out is the top speed of the fastest Covenant soldier and we can figure out how quick they could catch up to us."

"The shorter ones won't be a problem to get away from," Alex said, referring to the ones with tanks of some kind strapped to their back. "The birdbrains look like they might be good sprinters but that's only over short distances. Their legs are too frail looking for anything more long term."

"That just leaves the big one that gave us a bit of trouble," she said, remembering the sole alien species left from the scouting party. "I'm thinking at least three times as fast as an ODST at full sprint."

"If you're right then they'd be able to get to the fallback position in under five minutes from the Academy," Alex said, not liking how that sounded. "Assuming that the cadets and the faculty don't outdo themselves, it means that the ODSTs from the Hannibal would need to hold their attention for at least seventy-two minutes just to make sure everyone gets there."

"Then we'll have less than five to prepare for their arrival," she said, finishing the train of thought. "Depending on the size of the force they send our way and the armaments possessed by both sides, we could last an hour or half an hour."

"The soonest the Aegis Fate could get into the system and descend to the fallback position would be an hour and a half," Alex said, not sounding happy with what his mind was telling him. "Unless we figure out a way to buy another thirty-five minutes, they'll be showing up to pick our bodies up for burial."

"More booby traps along the route?" she suggested, knowing a few improvised devices she could place along the route.

"No. Once they realize that the forests aren't safe they'll stick to the road or call in air support to solve the problem," Alex replied, shaking his head. "Once we've safely escorted the faculty and cadets to the fallback position, we'll take on the enemy forces at a safe distance from the survivors. Keep them focused on us for as long as possible."

"Three against an army? Almost sounds fair," she said with a smirk, remembering some of Chief Mendez's training scenarios with similar criteria.

"We'll wait until the last rescue ship's about to leave before pulling out," he said, not following her optimism. "Best case scenario is we manage to get two ships loaded and away before the Covenant ships realize what's going on and decide take more aggressive action to stop us. Once that happens, our odds of escape'll go down dramatically."

"Yeah. Ship to ship fights put too much in the Covenant's favor," she agreed, imagining how things would likely go.

"Then I hope that the requests for more Charon frigates get approved," he said as he began to access the latest intel through the computer set up. "Otherwise things are going to get messy."

Sadly true.

If only the Aegis Fate managed to make it to the fallback position, the question of who'd be the ones to be saved would become a big issue. Friends, teachers and students could very well turn on each other as their desire to live overrode whatever bonds they might possess. If they started fighting amongst themselves, it'd only delay the departure of the frigate and give the Covenant more time to kill them all.

She knew it was a poor appraisal of the Academy residents but it was a scenario that needed to be considered. If it turned into a free for all, where all of them fought against one another to get aboard the Aegis Fate, they would need a means by which they could restore order. They would need to snap them out of their frantic desire to survive and make them realize that infighting would only hasten their deaths. Hopefully by that point they'd be able to appeal to their better natures. Many of them had been soldiers, some of them were likely parents, and it was the protective instincts of both that she hoped would convince them to do the right thing.

Prioritize the survival of the cadets over themselves.

Fortunately psychological warfare was also a part of their training on Reach so all she'd need to do was gain an understanding of the personality archetypes of every member of the faculty. Once she had that information, she could begin designing just the right sequence of dialogue and actions to hit the right notes in the adults. She hoped she wouldn't have to use it but better to have and not need than need and not have.

Fortune favored the prepared.

 _ **Three Days Later, Evening, Rogue Team HQ**_

 _ **Joyce Zero-Seven-Zero's POV**_

"It's time," she said as the automated mechanical arms aided her in putting on her Mjolnir armor. "Hannibal's long range sensors have picked up movement on the edges of the system. It's still too far out for a positive identification but the last communication from the UNSC before the system was shut down did not indicate any other ships would be arriving."

"Even if there were, they'd have already made contact," Alex said as his armor came together one piece at a time. "As soon as we're armored up we move to join the rest of the evacuation party."

"You're thinking that the Covenant will try a short range slipspace jump?" Daisy asked as the last of her armor fell into place.

"It's a surefire way to take the Hannibal by surprise, letting them get the first volley in," Alex replied as his helmet began lowering itself. "Depending on how many ships attack, the Hannibal might not be able to return fire."

"They'll give as good as they get," she said as the HUD of her helmet went active. "They'll do their job."

"Yes, they will," Alex said, stepping off the armor assembly platform.

She and Daisy followed suit before walking over to their makeshift armory to choose an appropriate load out for what was about to happen. She, of course, chose a SRS99 to begin with since one of her primary objectives was to keep the Covenant forces as far from the Academy residents as she could. However she knew that, one way or another, matters would devolve into a much closer fight so she chose to go with two M7S submachine guns that she promptly attached to her thigh holsters.

Turning to the others she saw that Alex had chosen to go with a XBR55 Battle rifle and a M90 CAWS but that was hardly any surprise. From the moment they were first given firearms to hold her best friend had preferred weapons that gave him multiple tactical options. The battle rifle gave him the option of attacking either at mid or long range while the shotgun would make short work of anything that got close enough to attack him physically.

Daisy, on the other hand, had chosen to keep things close quarters with a trio of weapons that would help her with her choice. First a standard issue UNSC combat knife that, while primitive, could still be used to great effect, especially against those who'd underestimate its potential. Next came a M6D Magnum Sidearm that, while small, could inflict serious damage even against armored foes, hopefully making it enough to harm even the toughest Covenant soldier. The final choice, the one slung on her fellow female SPARTAN's back, was an M90 shotgun that would make sure anything that came after her would quickly come to regret doing so.

They all added three M9 grenades just in case the enemy came at them in numbers too great to be taken down quickly enough.

Without a word Alex led them out of their HQ and moved to the largest building on the northern edge of the Academy's central area. Her suit's audio receivers were conveying to her the descent and disembarking of the ODSTs from the Hannibal from their drop pods, reassuring her. With the Covenant ships yet to make orbit, never mind deploy forces down to the surface of the planet, so there was still time for the newly arrived forces to position themselves strategically. With the M41's on the rooftops manned while those on the ground took up defensive positions behind the best cover available, the hostiles would encounter strong resistance.

Especially since General Black had surprised them by relocating the front blades of several bulldozers to the open areas of the central campus. Made of strong metal, they would hopefully provide adequate cover against the plasma weapons that would soon be brought to bear against them. Their arrival had caused quite a stir amongst the students as well as those faculty members that hadn't been in the loop about the dangerous developments, but 'classified' was the only answer delivered. It wouldn't last long, this denial of answers, but then it didn't need to.

All would soon become clear.

"Here they come," Alex said causing her to look to the south.

Moving towards them was a massive body of people and sadly, from what she could see, only those on the periphery were armed and properly armored. They had not been told of the results of General Black's request for surplus armor and weapons but apparently the Hannibal hadn't had as much to spare as she'd hoped. She supposed she shouldn't be surprised since the total population of the Academy was seriously larger than the crew compliment of the Hannibal and their contingent of soldiers as well.

It would've increased the odds of more people surviving but there was little point in dwelling on what could not be changed.

"Daisy, you take the right, Joyce the left and I'll protect the rear," Alex ordered just as the lead members of the group got close enough to where they could see the three SPARTANs. "Hold fire until the enemy is within effective shooting range. Focus on officers and those that look like they have long range weapons. The safety of the cadets and the faculty are paramount. Understood?"

"Understood," she and Daisy replied with a nod before they both moved to their assigned flank positions.

She could tell right away that the population of the Academy were thrown a bit by the appearance of her and her fellow SPARTANs. This was to be expected since, not only were they taller than any normal human being, but their Mjolnir armor was such that they probably looked like robots. She remembered cartoons that she used to watch with Alex that often featured heroic robots and she had to admit that there was a resemblance to Doctor Halsey's armor design. However she hoped that they would recover from their shock quickly since focusing on the three of them rather than their surroundings would only lead to needless deaths.

"Keep it tight cadets!" she said in a tone that she hoped would be familiar yet also command compliance. "We're moving out of here!"

This seemed to do the job for most of the group but she could still see several curious ones glancing at her and the other members of her team. Turning away from what she couldn't do anything more about she kept her SRS99 in ready position while splitting her attention between what lay ahead and to the left of the group. Even with the vision enhancements available through her helmet, she couldn't see too well what lay ahead and it was only getting worse the further they went from the central buildings of the Academy. The lights on each of the helmets present might provide some illumination but it also made it damn easy for the Covenant to target them.

Fortunately Rogue team had an ace in the hole.

"Long range at two'o'clock!" Alex declared through the com-link between their suits.

Without any pause, thanks to years of training as a team, she dropped to one knee, brought her SRS99 up to look down its scope and aimed it in the direction Alex had indicated. It took her only seconds to spot the movement that was NOT vegetation and, after adjusting her aim to a lethal area, she pulled the trigger.

CHOOM!

A faint squawk from the direction of the motion confirmed that she'd hit a hostile and that it was one of the bird-like Covenant soldiers.

It was a closely kept secret amongst Rogue team, half of their own will and half an order from Doctor Halsey, that Alex possessed empathic abilities. With his mind alone he could sense the emotions of others and with practice he'd gotten pretty good at pinpointing where they were coming from even if he couldn't see the source. Doctor Halsey had worked with Alex diligently in order to develop this ability and now it was going to pay off.

Not only was it going to overcome the problem of their limited visibility but it would also have a psychological effect on the enemy forces. The Covenant no doubt felt safe hiding in the darkness, shooting at prey that didn't know where to retaliate, but when Rogue team strongly indicated that that safety was an illusion it'd shake them up. The uncertainty born of this incomprehensible development would make them reluctant to get too close, leaving them only with the security that long range attacks could provide. Depending on how many alien sniper rifles they were equipped with, it'd lower the number of casualties since any other type of weapon they might have wouldn't be very effect at long range. A stray shot might land but it'd be more out of luck rather than intent.

How long would it be before the Covenant forces scrounged up enough courage or determination to move in closer?

Hopefully not until AFTER they reached the fallback point and set up a respectable defense line.

"Mid-range at nine'o'clock!" Alex declared, causing Daisy to adjust her aim with her M6D before spitting out three shots once she acquired her target.

When she didn't hear the sound of a dying hostile she looked in the direction indicated and saw what looked to be a humanoid energy form pop into existence before vanishing.

It was one of those tri-jawed aliens.

Alex acted on this information and brought his XBR55 to bear, firing a volley of his own that popped the personal energy shield before bringing down the alien.

"How're you doing this?" one of the cadets asked in awe.

"Part bleeding edge visual package in our helmets, part classified material you're not cleared to know," she replied, providing an answer that would satisfy most.

"Cool!" the cadet exclaimed, making it clear he couldn't wait until the 'package' became standard issue.

"Mind on the job, cadet!" she snapped, seeing that the teenage guy was one of the ones armed as well as armored. "We can handle things for now but if the enemy numbers get too high, you'll need to step up."

"Do you know what they are?" the cadet asked, at least partially moving his mind back to the task at hand.

"I can't give you any details but I will say that they've officially moved the Insurrectionists to the number two slot on the UNSC's list of threats," she replied, figuring that it was safe to at least provide that much.

Seeing as how the cadet was gripping his assault rifle tighter and began to actively look for enemies, she had no regrets about what she'd revealed.


	9. To struggle and overcome

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the copyrighted materials contained herein. They are the rightful property of their respective creators and/or associated companies. I make no profit from this whatsoever and I have no intention of changing this at any point in the future. I write because it's fun and because there are those who enjoy reading my work. Therefore it would be greatly appreciated if no legal action were taken against me.

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 _ **The Road to the Fall Back Location, Twenty Minutes Later**_

 _ **Dimah Tchakova's POV**_

"Dimah, two o'clock!" Chyler yelled as she laid down MA5D fire on a large alien.

Bringing her M6F handgun to the right direction, it took her a couple of seconds to find a target within her range but, once she did, she pulled the trigger until the slide clicked into place. Fortunately that proved to be enough since her target dropped to the ground dead. Still, she didn't let this kill lull her into a false security and immediately she released the empty clip from her handgun before reaching down to her combat belt to grab a full one. Sliding it quickly into the weapon just as she had many times before, she pulled the slide in order to chamber a round.

It'd been twenty minutes since the first aliens appeared to try to kill them and at first the armored giants, the robots Sully had learned of during his illegal hacking, had been enough to keep them at bay. However, when the threats came from more than one direction, those that had weapons were required to fight, to survive. The leader of the robots, whose name was revealed to be Sierra-Zero-Six-Nine, made contact with several of the armed faculty members who moved on the periphery of their large group, calling out enemy locations. While some of the teachers showed that while no longer fit for field duty they had still kept their skills, others had performed less than effectively and she'd even heard one say 'the sarge would kick my ass if he saw me now'. As for the cadets, it soon became clear who were freshmen and who were less than a year away from graduating from the Academy. For those senior cadets who had squad members next to them, they worked like a machine, knowing their roles well and executing them competently. For those who found themselves with unfamiliar people they managed to settle into a rough but minimally effective revolution of positions between defense and offense.

While she didn't think they were doing poorly, it'd still come with a cost in the form of lives.

Between their positions being called out and the time it took for those closest to take aim, the aliens still managed to get a few shots off before they were killed more often than not. Sometimes they were lucky in that the shots went wide, missing entirely, but a few times they hit their mark, either killing someone instantly or seriously wounding them. On General Black's orders those that were killed were left behind, those injured moved to the center of the group to be carried by the unarmed and the gap in the perimeter defense filled by the closest person.

So far they'd lost seventeen people and twice as many were being carried close to the center of the group.

She counted her blessings that no one had died close to her yet but in some ways hearing the death cries without being able to see those who fell was worse.

Nevertheless the fear of being the next to fall stopped most people from deviating from the pattern of mobile combat that they'd settled into. She wanted to hurry up, she wanted to SAY 'HURRY UP', but there was never enough time to speak up since the aliens just kept coming. She had to focus everything on being ready to fire the second an alien fell within range of her M6F magnum.

It was then that she heard something above, something getting closer, but her memories were at a loss to identify what it could be.

"We've got airborne incoming!" Sierra-Zero-Six-Nine yelled, causing her to look up to the sky. "Concentrate fire!"

Bringing her weapon up, she soon spotted the source of the odd sound she was hearing. Honestly it looked like someone had taken a missile tube and tacked on two maneuvering thrusters to the rear but there was no mistaking its deadly speed and agility. Taking aim and using her scope to increase her odds of hitting it, she started shooting the same time that everyone else did. An unending stream of bullets streaked towards the aircraft, creating almost a wall of sparks as some rounds bounced off lacking the penetration power needed to get at the inner workings. Fortunately some did not mean all and, after a shot from a particularly high powered firearm, the aircraft went out of control, crashing into the forest.

The explosion that followed was larger than what she'd been expecting but it did have the side benefit of sending a number of aliens flying, with injuries that could well be fatal.

"We'd better pick up the pace," Sierra-Zero-Six-Nine said via the com-gear in everyone's helmets. "It's a good bet that the pilot managed to radio in our location and numbers. More will be coming along with an increase in ground troops. Double time it, people! We're going to have company!"

Frightened at the idea of facing more than one of the aircraft along with more ground forces than they'd seen so far, she increased her pace as much as she could without steamrolling over those ahead of her. She knew that the others were moving as swiftly as they could but, with the injured slowing them down and some no longer fit enough to move as quickly as the cadets, it felt that the increase was marginal at best.

 _Faster! FASTER!_ she thought even as she remembered to keep watch on the woods for enemies. _We must go faster!_

It was then that she saw one of the aliens raising some sort of weapon towards her and her arms then moved to bring her weapon to bear on it, only for it to be stopped by the body of the person ahead of her.

"Dimah! Look out!" Chyler exclaimed, trying to do what she'd been unable to do.

However it was too late as pink crystals were launched from the alien's weapon and, even as time seemed to slow, she knew it would help her not. However, just as it looked as though certainty was about to set in, a large green form got between her and the oncoming crystals and moments later she heard the sound of them shattering. A few seconds later the sound of a XBR55 firing was accompanied by the sound of an alien dying from where the crystals had been fired.

"Are you cadets okay?" Sierra-Zero-Six-Nine asked as he searched the woods for further threats.

"Y-yeah… we're fine," she said, recovering from how close she'd come to dying.

"Then get moving!" Sierra-Zero-Six-Nine ordered as he moved to resume his previous position at the rear of the crowd. "We've got to get to the fallback position as soon as possible."

"Right!" she said as she hurried to move with the rest of the Academy residents.

However, even as she ran, she couldn't get over the fact that, had it not been for the robot or whatever it was, she would have died. She would've been one of the ones that'd been left behind in order to not slow down the others. She would have died with no way of knowing whether or not her body would ever be found, never mind recovered for a proper burial. The idea terrified her but oddly enough she also felt a wellspring of determination fill up within her that refused to allow that possibility to become a reality.

She had a path to follow and a heritage to live up to! She would not be made a corpse left to rot away on this planet until nothing but bones remained!

She was going to survive this and she'd do whatever she had to in order to make that happen.

WHATEVER she had to!

 _ **The Fall Back Location, Forty Minutes Later**_

 _ **Alex Zero-Six-Nine's POV**_

 _Well what do you know! We got here in sixty minutes,_ he thought as the unarmed carried the wounded into the mine while the rest took up defensive positions. _Guess there's something to be said for incentive._

Still, the steady increase in pursuit had him concerned.

It'd been his hope that if the ODSTs put up enough resistance at the Academy buildings that it'd cause the Covenant forces to focus their efforts there first before turning their attention towards any fleeing humans. These things were soldiers, after all, holy warriors judging by their sole message, so it'd been feasible to assume that they'd be more inclined to fight opponents who could fight back the hardest than 'cowards' fleeing from battle.

Instead, though, they'd been encountering greater numbers of ground forces the further they got from the central Academy area and it'd especially kicked up a notch once they'd shot down the enemy aircraft. Either they'd been less fixated on a challenge than he'd anticipated or they'd received orders to prioritize the largest mass of targets in the area. Whatever the reason, they were in for a tough fight sooner than he'd been anticipating so they needed to get their defenses up as soon as possible.

"Zero-Seven-Zero! Get on the top of that rock face with two more snipers!" he ordered before turning to those faculty members who still had their combat edge. "Three of you to each sniper. Watch their backs and point them at high value targets."

"How're we supposed to know which are high value?" a teacher asked, sounding a little uncertain.

"They'll be the ones giving the orders or wielding the biggest weapons," he replied, silently reminding himself that these former soldiers hadn't seen action in a couple of years. "Our best chance of holding out until the evacuation ship gets here is to sow as much discord as possible while reducing their ability to kill us. Now MOVE!"

With their roles defined the faculty members moved to support the snipers who were already making their way up the side of the rock face.

"Those of you with shotguns move to the entrance of the mine," he said, turning to others in the group of evacuees. "It'll be your job to protect the wounded and the unarmed until the rescue ship arrives. Just watch you don't hit a friendly by accident."

The ones armed with the aforementioned weapon moved to the mine entrance, forming two ranks, semi-circles, with the ones in the front kneeling while the ones to the rear remained standing.

Good.

If they fired one row at a time it'd allow the others time to reload, minimizing their period of vulnerability.

"The rest of you get behind whatever cover you can find and prepare yourselves," he said to those who had yet to be assigned a task. "Our 'uninvited guests' will be here soon and I doubt they'll be nice enough to wait until we're ready to kill them."

With all roles assigned he moved towards the mine entrance to check on the wounded, to see if their condition had worsened any. He'd done his best to use his empathic abilities to detect approaching hostiles as soon as possible and called out the directions they were coming from. Nevertheless they had suffered casualties and many had been injured along the road to the fallback position. He wasn't ignorant of the fact that both the cadets and the members of the faculty had found it hard to leave their dead behind but thankfully they'd known that speed took priority over giving into grief. For the deaths to have meaning, those who yet lived needed to make it off Circinius IV to the nearest safe UNSC planet.

He would make sure that those who'd died had not done so in vain.

"How're they doing?" he asked Colonel Mehaffey, who was tending to one of the wounded.

"Most were lucky," Mehaffey replied, tying the bandage securely on a cadet's arm. "Others less so. While most suffered flesh wounds and minor burns that could be treated by any competent medic, some have incurred injuries that need more care than we can manage at the moment."

"How long do you think the seriously wounded have?" he asked, wanting to know how many more were likely to die before they reached safety.

"An hour. Two if we're lucky," she replied grimly.

"Then they're on the first evacuation ship out of here," he decided, seeing it as the logical choice. "Do what you can to stabilize them for travel."

Colonel Mehaffey nodded.

Walking away, he moved swiftly to a jagged outcropping nearest to the bottleneck that the Covenant would likely be coming through at any moment. Crouching behind it, he quickly took stock of how much ammunition he had left so as to better understand how much he'd have to ration it in the fight to come. He had another two magazines for his XBR55 and enough shells for his M90 to reload twice over before running dry. When added to the two M9 grenades, he estimated that he'd be able to dispatch a good many enemy hostiles but after that he'd need to resupply. That could be done either by taking up the weapon of a fallen defender or by taking hold of acquired enemy weapons but he felt more confident using human weapons.

Those he knew how to use and what their limitations were.

Of the enemy weapons he only had the fragmented accounts from Blue team and they were hardly enough to let him know the proper use of any of them. He could of course learn how to fire them through deductive reasoning but that would not necessarily mean he would not get hurt if he used them.

Unlike how civilians thought that using a gun was as simple as pointing it in the right direction and pulling the trigger, he knew there was more to using any kind of projectile weapon than that.

Reaching out with his empathic abilities, he cast a wide net and waited for the first sign of approaching hostiles. Their minds, their emotions, were like a distorted copy of those felt by humans, making them difficult but not impossible to comprehend. By using what he'd learned under Doctor Halsey's guidance as a baseline he'd managed to discern how the enemy felt right before they pulled the trigger on their weapons. By zeroing in on their location and waiting for this feeling, he gained enough warning to either shoot first or evade the enemy fire, causing them to miss.

It was this ability of his that would let him know of the enemy's arrival once they got within range because, the more warning they had, the better off they were.

"Snipers in position, Alex," Joy told him via his helmet's com-system.

"Good. Keep your scopes on the road for now," he said as he brought his XBR55 up to eye level in order to do the same. "If they approach from any other direction I'll do my best to let you know."

"Don't force yourself," Joy said firmly. "You're going to have your hands full as it is. I've got overwatch covered."

He couldn't argue with that.

The entire benefit of a choke point was that the enemy could only come at you from a single direction and in certain numbers. Therefore it was vital to make sure that none made it from one end of the corridor to the other and into the open area where his allies were waiting. With the amount of guns aimed at the corridor exit, it was a safe bet that nothing would be getting very far down it before being slain… assuming that the Covenant didn't have something new to throw at them. So far they'd seen the alien equivalent of a fighter jet and it'd taken some precision shooting and high caliber rounds to bring it down. If they had something like a tank, the bottleneck could be obliterated and his entire plan for holding off the enemy would go up in smoke.

 _I sure hope that the Aegis Fate is on its way,_ he thought as he waited keeping his senses sharp.

The lives of over a thousand innocent people were counting on it arriving soon.

 _ **Entering the Circinius system, UNSC Aegis Fate**_

 _ **Captain Greg Hammer's POV**_

"Status?" he asked as the Charon-class Frigate exited hyperspace.

"Two Covenant ships descending towards the surface of Circinius Four," the operations officer replied while putting the sensor data on the main screen. "UNSC Hannibal heavily damaged. Life support failing. Negative reaction to hail attempts."

Not good.

The Hannibal was a Marathon-class heavy cruiser and they weren't easy to beat, even outnumbered three to one. Still, given the amount of time since the call for reinforcements went out and their arrival, the fact that they'd managed to hold the ships in orbit as long as they had did credit to both the crew as well as the captain. He'd read the reports given by the Heracles, the only ship to survive the initial operation to investigate Harvest, and knew that the enemy ships had armaments that could melt through UNSC ship armor with little difficulty. He also knew that, whether it was M.A.C. rounds or a nuke that made it past their shields, the damage was not severe enough to take them out with one hit. So to force the enemy ships to focus on something that could not easily damage them, much less destroy them, took some pretty clever work.

Still, it meant that they wouldn't have any support from orbit when they descended to evacuate survivors. With the amount of damage the heavy cruiser had sustained, most of its weapons systems were likely offline along with any Longswords it might've been carrying.

"What's the status of the Covenant ships?" he asked, hoping that the Hannibal had at least managed to some damage before being taken out of the fight.

"Checking. One has some damage to its primary hull. The second one shows no sign of damage," the operations officer replied as images of each enemy vessel were highlighted. "Based on sensor readings, though, it looks like the Hannibal managed to take out at least one Covenant vessel before getting knocked out of the fight."

 _So we could take out one, maybe both, enemy ships if we strike in just the right spots,_ he thought as he considered the possibilities. _Then again we might not. If it took everything the Hannibal had just to do this much damage, the Aegis Fate won't be able to do much._

"Open a com-channel on the frequency we were given by FLEETCOM," he ordered as he chose discretion over opportunity. "It's time to let the people we're saving know we're here."

"Aye, sir," the communications officer said before putting action to word.

"This is the UNSC Aegis Fate to Sierra-Zero-Six-Nine. Do you read?" he asked before waiting for a reply.

"This is Sierra-Zero-Six-Nine," a voice replied through the comm-system. "We read you!"

"What's your situation?" he asked, hoping that they hadn't arrived just in time to hear the last words of the last survivor.

"We've managed to orchestrate a bottle neck situation and have the enemy's land forces stuck at a set distance," Sierra-Zero-Six-Nine replied, the sounds of combat as background noise. "But their air support is increasing in number. ETA to pickup?"

"Assuming there're no distractions during descent? Twenty minutes," he said, looking to his helm officer, who mouthed the estimated amount.

"And if there is?" Sierra-Zero-Six-Nine asked, sounding like he expected the situation to go that way.

"Then we'll have to play it by ear," he replied, unable to give a number without knowing what sort of 'complications' might come his way.

"We'll be waiting," Sierra-Zero-Six-Nine said with a tone that told him he meant business. "Over and out."

"Do you have a lock on their position?" he asked, already thinking up ways to ensure their speedy arrival.

"Aye, captain," the operations officer replied before bringing up a map of the area surrounding Corbulo Academy. "According to Sierra-Zero-Six-Nine's transmission, they're here."

A waypoint appeared on the map roughly ten kilometers from the central Academy grounds.

"Set a course for the waypoint. Best speed," he ordered the helm officer. "This is a strict swoop and scoop operation people. We're here to save lives, not take on three heavily armed Covenant ships."

"And if they decide to take us on?" the operations officer asked, bringing up an unpleasant possibility.

It was one he was aware of but hadn't wanted to bring up in front of the crew since it wasn't exactly an optimistic scenario. His crew needed to believe that they had a chance, that their training would be enough to see them through, but honestly he didn't like the odds of them surviving combat with the Covenant vessels. Whatever the case, there was no walking away from it now.

"Then we do our best to do a fly by over their location, drop Major Hendricks and his men along with supply pods full of ammunition," he replied, showing no fear in front of his crew. "They'll either keep the evacuees alive until we force a withdraw or… until the next evacuation ship arrives."

There. He was honest with them but showed them what it meant to be a soldier as well.

"It'd almost be waste to drop the major down there," the operations officer said with confidence. "We'll be back before he gets a chance to fire a single shot."

"Nah! We can't ruin his fun," the helm officer said as he piloted the ship towards the waypoint. "It's been months since he took down that Insurrectionist base. Let's give him a little time to get his hands dirty."

He couldn't help but smile at the courage his crew was displaying. They were facing the unknown and faced very real odds of meeting their end. Some people might prefer to flee and only return when they had a better idea of what it was they were facing but, if they did, that they would be condemning innocents to die.

That was something he'd never allow.

Their approach to the planet was without incident and, as the familiar fires of reentry began to show on the main view screen, he thought for a moment that the Covenant had decided his ship was beneath their notice. Not that he was going to argue with the good fortune since it increased the odds of him accomplishing his mission. However it was as the last of the reentry fire faded from sight that the screen showing the current location of the enemy ships indicated a changing of course.

"One Covenant ship has changed the direction of its descent. It's on an intercept course!" the operations officer said before displaying the predicted path of the vessel in question.

"Which one?" he asked, hoping for an affirmative answer since they could handle that one if push came to shove.

"The one with the hull damage," the operations officer replied, bringing up more detailed scans of the Covenant ship approaching.

 _Not the best situation but not an unsalvageable one,_ he thought as he considered the newest development.

"Bridge to Major Hendricks," he said after pressing the intercom button on his chair. "Get your men canned and armed for a fight. We've got an angry dance partner that doesn't want us cutting in. We'll take care of it while you keep the evacuees alive until we get back. Understood?"

"Understood, captain," Major Hendricks said with his usual professionalism. "We'll try not to have too much fun without you. Hendricks out."

"Plot a course for a flyby over the pickup point," he ordered the helm officer as he mentally girded himself for a fight.

"Aye, sir," the helm officer said as he worked to adjust their course.

"Prep supply pods one through four for drop," he ordered the operations officer without turning away from the screen, "The second we're on top of the pickup point, let'em drop."

"Aye, sir," the operations officer said as he brought the auto-load system for the pods online.

"Prep Archer missile pods to fire. Defense gun turrets online," he said as he began to think up ways to quickly dispatch the incoming enemy vessel. "On my word, open fire."

Taking in the information the view screens, he sharpened his gaze as he watched the ship's coordinates get closer to the pickup point.

When they were less than a second from overlapping he knew it was time.

"ODST and supply pods release!" he ordered as he put his plan into motion. "Lock Archer missiles on the incoming ship and FIRE!"

With beeps and boops pods were dropped while missiles flew to convince the Covenant vessel that they were top priority rather than the evacuees. Seeing the radar register the missiles leaving the ship, he watched as they crossed the distance towards their target. Mentally he counted down until the moment of impact but, just as they reached the halfway point, the enemy vessel fired some sort of countermeasures. One after another the plasma weaponry of the enemy succeeded in detonating the missiles before they could impact on the Covenant ship's hull. Three managed to get through, though, but even without asking he knew it wasn't critical damage.

"Status on the alien ship?" he asked as the last of the detonations faded away.

"Light damage to their hull but no change in speed or course," the operations officer replied from his post.

 _The fact that they're using countermeasures means they don't have any energy shields,_ he thought with renewed optimism. _Either the Hannibal knocked them offline before being taken out of the fight or they didn't have any to begin with. Either way this fight got a lot more even._

"Adjust heading two-four-nine-zero-mark-seven," he ordered as he took a look at the topography of the region. "Let's put some mountains between us and their retaliation."

Just because the enemy had no shielding didn't mean that they could trade shots out in the open. The Covenant vessel had proven that it could intercept Archer missiles at the current range and, with only three or so making it through, it'd take a while before the damage piled up. The Aegis, at the moment, didn't have any viable countermeasures against incoming plasma fire other than to evade it or hope their hull armor could take the hits. Considering how many lives were on the line, he wasn't about to take any chances.

"Incoming fire!" the operations officer declared looking up from his screens. "Three torpedoes!"

"Focus rear defense turrets on them. Let's see if we can get them to blow early," he ordered as the enemy projectiles registered on radar. "Helm! Evasive maneuvers!"

Gravity aboard the ship shifted a bit as a result of the quick change in direction but it was preferable to getting hit.

"Status on those torpedoes?" he ordered wanting to know the reaction the turrets had on them.

"Negative effect from turret fire," the operations officer reported, his hands moving about the console. "They're still coming and it looks like they've got a solid lock on us. They're adjusting course to match our evasive maneuvers."

"Helm! Increase speed!" he ordered, not wanting to resort to Archer missiles as interceptors unless he had no choice. "Get us behind those mountains NOW!"

Like any good captain he could both feel as well as hear his ship's engines increase their output even as a whisper of vibration grew in strength. Seeing the mountains getting closer, the ship soon arrived and, with a hard ninety degree turn, the helm officer put stone between them and the incoming fire. Seconds later something outside the ship detonated but, seeing as how they were still alive and the number of damage alerts were fewer than a direct hit would warrant, he took it to be good news.

"The torpedoes scraped the top of the mountain and detonated, sir," the operations officer reported from his station. "Light scorching on ship's armor but otherwise we're still fully functional."

"Let's keep it that way," he said as the ship cleared the mountain, once more allowing a visual on the enemy vessel. "Bring the M.A.C. gun online and begin charging."

"What!? You want to fire the M.A.C gun? IN atmosphere?!" the tactical officer asked in surprise at the order.

"Missiles aren't getting the job done and we need to end this fight quick before our 'friend' calls for backup from his friend," he replied with resolve and urgency. "Now get the gun charging! I doubt they're just going to just sit there and wait for us."

"Aye, sir! M.A.C. gun charging!" the tactical officer said as he worked to follow his orders.

"Until then we get our shots in when we can and use the topography to our advantage when we can't." he said, turning to look at the helm officer. "We'll be depending a lot on your skills. No pressure, eh?"

"Yeah. NO pressure," the helm officer said with a roll of her eyes.

 _ **Fall Back Location, Daisy-Zero-Two-Three's POV**_

As the booms of an atmospheric battle between a Covenant ship and the UNSC Aegis Fate echoed throughout the area, she had to wonder if Alex's plan as slipping towards failure.

Don't get her wrong, he was good team leader, but even if the Fate managed to slip free of pursuit the window it'd have to reach them and land would be ridiculously small. Minutes most likely. Even if they started bringing out the wounded and the unarmed as soon as they were notified of the frigate's approach, the ship would risk getting blown to bits remaining stationary long enough for people to be evacuated. Given the Hannibal's absence following the descent of the two Covenant ships, she could only presume that the ship wasn't in any state to provide support. They also hadn't heard anything from the ODSTs that'd been deployed to distract the enemy ground forces at the Academy so it was likely they were all dead.

In short, unless another ship entered the system and kept the enemy vessels occupied, all that Alex's plan had done was make the body count bigger.

"Things aren't looking good!" she declared before popping off a pair of shots to kill a bird alien that didn't have its shield in the right position.

"But they're still better than they were before," Alex said as he buried a couple of rounds from his XBR55 into one of the larger two leggers. "Our ammo's replenished and we've got reinforcements. We can do this."

"All that's not going to mean much if our ride out of here gets shot down," she pointed out before spotting one of the smaller aliens charging her position with those weird glowing grenades in hand.

"The Aegis Fate'll be back. We just have to make sure there's something for them to come back to," Alex said, not willing to let their current reality get to him.

 _Easier said than done,_ she thought as she took a strategic glance at the enemy forces.

According to what she could see, the enemy forces were primarily made up of the tiny tank carriers and the shield-carrying birds. There were a few of the large two legged leader types that Rogue team had encountered in the Covenant scouting team but their armor didn't look quite as fancy and their shields went down easier. Not that she was complaining considering their current situation but it still made her wonder. Were the stronger shields harder to build or were they only given to soldiers of a certain rank? That was something for ONI to figure out later.

Some of the large ones had attempted to charge their front lines but they didn't last very long since, before they got too close, a single round from a sniper rifle brought them down. The three snipers at the top of the rock face were doing an excellent job targeting leaders and enemies of opportunity, shaking up the lower ranks and sometimes scattering them. In the first couple of minutes of fighting they'd managed to take out six before the enemy figured out what was going on and then they moved behind cover. After that it all became a game of who'd stick their heads out at the wrong time and who'd time their shots just right. Of course the Covenant soldiers tried to return fire and kill the snipers but since their shooters were lying prone, the incoming fire hit rock or flew overhead more often than not.

From what she'd heard there had been a few attempts by the enemy to circle around to get them from behind but those sent to protect the snipers were doing their jobs.

Then, out of nowhere, a green blast of plasma that was four times as big as anything that'd been sent their way thus far flew through the air to slam into the rock face just below Joy's position.

"Sierra-Zero-Seven-Zero! Status!" Alex exclaimed in concern for their teammate.

"A little singed but okay. No deaths," Joy replied, quelling the worry that'd manifested in her heart. "Where the hell did that come from?"

"Checking!" Alex said, likely using the scope of his battle rifle to zero in on the green plasma's origin point. "Shit! Looks like we've got something new that wants to play. Twelve feet tall, shield on one hand and a big cannon on the other. Looks pretty armored."

"Not good," she said as she peeked out from behind cover to take a look for herself.

"And it just got worse. We've got two, I repeat, two of the giants," Alex said, sounding daunted for the first time since Covenant began attacking.

"If they fire too many of those shots, they'll tear our defenses to pieces," she said, imagining how bad it could get.

"Then it's time to follow one of the Chief's pieces of advice," Alex said as he slapped a fresh mage into his XBR55. "If your defense is weak, ATTACK!"

With that Alex broke from cover and charged forward towards the throng of enemy soldiers, presumably to tackle the two giants up close and personal.

"That IDIOT!" she exclaimed before charging after him, her M90 shotgun in hand. "Joy! I'm going after him! Handle things here until we get back!"

"Consider them handled," Joy said followed by a shot from her sniper rifle. "Make sure our fearless leader doesn't get himself killed."

As if that was something just anyone could do. If there was one thing she'd learned since being teamed up with Alex it was that, thanks to his empathic ability, catching him by surprise was almost impossible. Doctor Halsey had put him through rigorous training to find the limits of his unique power as well as to see how it fared under various combat conditions. In the end it'd been hypothesized by Doctor Halsey that the only way to defeat the ability was to overwhelm it with more input than Alex was capable of interpreting. There hadn't been enough people at the base on Reach to get that far but there'd been enough signs that pointed in that direction for it to be a logical possibility.

At the moment, though, it looked like there weren't enough Covenant troops or Academy residents to put that kind of strain on Alex's empathic ability.

That didn't mean that he didn't need backup.

Leaving the foes ahead of Alex for him to take care of she focused on those that tried to take advantage of the fact that they were no longer within his field of fire. Of course this meant that their attention shifted to her soon after but judicious use of her M9 shotgun took care of most of those kind of foes and where she fell short…

CHOOM!

…Joy, it appeared, was watching her back.

With Rogue team working together Alex managed to make it to the giants but soon after they made it clear that they wouldn't be killed as easily as their smaller comrades. Fire from Alex's XBR55 didn't do much good against the armor plating protecting the giant's body, with only random rounds drawing blood from the gaps between plates. When the large shield that looked like it was permanently fused to the giant's arm was brought into play, it was even less likely that a fatal shot would land. When Rogue team's leader had to reload the giant brought its weapon arm to bear it began to charge up, revealing a useful piece of information. The weapon wasn't designed for rapid fire but rather a single powerful shot that required a couple of seconds charging time before it could shoot.

Alex seemed to realize this as well but, instead of charging in quickly to kill the giant before it could shoot, her team's leader backed off, putting some distance between the two of them.

She moved to take it on at close range but, when a shield swing came out of nowhere and sent her crashing through a nearby tree, she remembered that there'd been two giants. Using her shotgun to clear the area in her immediate vicinity she got back to her feet in time to see the second giant begin to lumber towards her, its intent obvious. The rest of the Covenant forces seemed inclined to give the giants room to operate but there were still a few random shots either by the fearful or the ambitious. Firing lethally discouraging thoughts at the surrounding foes without taking her eyes off the second giant, she tried to think of a way to overcome it so that she could back Alex up. The armor was strong enough to take rounds from an XBR55 and, while shotgun rounds might do a better job due to the power behind them, she'd need to get closer to achieve maximum effect.

Considering the power she'd just been hit with, she wasn't sure she'd be able to take advantage of an opening even if it presented itself.

This was looking more and more like the scenario Deja told them about during one of their first lessons involving the wolves and the deer. If she tried to just go in and attack it, she could very well wind up getting the horns right to the gut. According to the lessons given to them by Deja, while a single wolf was almost certain to meet a grizzly end trying to take a deer down on its own, victory was feasible with help from the rest of the pack.

"Joy? You remember that training sessions at the end of our third year? Remember how we won?" she asked, using the internal switch to flick on her comm-system. "Ready to go two for two?"

"Sure. Just be careful," Joy replied, sounding a little worried.

Not that she blamed the sniper, considering the power the giants were packing, but all their brothers and sisters knew that they'd been enhanced so that they could do what ordinary soldiers couldn't. With that in mind she charged her large sparring partner head on, firing her shotgun as fast as she could work the pump action to eject the spent round and load a fresh one. As she'd expected, the giant brought its shield into play to block all the shells but that was what she wanted it to do. Waiting until she was just outside its swing reach before ceasing fire and changing course to the alien's left, she started reloading. Just like the most basic of thought patterns, once the thing lowered its shield arm it tried to reacquire her and, when it seemed lost, she fired a round into its hide to help it along.

She leapt backwards when it swung its shield arm at her but fired again to make it follow her in the hopes that its second or third try would connect.

 _God, this thing is so simpleminded!_ she thought as she continued to coax it along. _If it was smart it'd use its friends for cannon fodder to line up the perfect shot with its arm cannon._

Since it wasn't, though, it was easy to get it into the center of the road, leading to the fallback point, and then fired a few more shots to make sure it was looking in the right direction.

"How's it looking Joy?" she asked with all the variables in their proper position.

"Beautiful," Joy replied, sounding quite happy at the moment. "Shall I?"

"By all means. Shoot," she replied, preparing herself for a possible follow up.

CHOOM!

CHOOM!

With the two sniper rounds slamming into the giant, she listened to it bellow out in pain even as orange blood splattered the back of its armor. As she saw it fall to one knee she thought it might be dead already but, when it used its cannon arm to keep from eating dirt, she decided her follow up was needed. Darting forward she leapt into the air, reorienting mid-air, and then landed on its back before aiming her shotgun at the center of the bloody mess Joy had created.

KOOM!

CHK-KOOM!

The two shotgun rounds shredded the exposed flesh that Joy had taken advantage of around the back of the neck, finally blasting the last bits of life out of the giant.

"Thanks, Joy," she said as she shifted her aim to take advantage of the shock the rest of the Covenant were feeling at her victory. "Your aim's as good as ever."

"It helps when the target has a good chunk of its neck exposed like that," Joy said as she resumed sending rounds to valuable members of the enemy force. "A major design flaw if I ever saw one."

"Yeah, well, let's hope they don't wise up anytime soon," she said as a shot downed one of the bird aliens. "How's Alex doing?"

"Up to his usual insanity," Joy replied with incredulous exasperation. "Strange thing is that it's actually working."

"Really?" she asked rhetorically.

"Yeah, but don't tell him I said that. His ego might get too big. Again."

"Can't have that, can we?" she said as she made her way back to where she'd last seen the first giant. Once there she soon found out what Joy'd meant.

 _Only he could try something this insane and have it work out!_ she thought incredulously even as she decided to let it play out for the time being.

 _ **Alex-Zero-Six-Nine's POV**_

 _I can't believe this is actually working!_ he thought, waiting for just the right moment. _This guy brings new meaning to the phrase 'dumb muscle'._

When he'd originally gone after it he'd planned on trying to sneak around it so he could shoot it from the rear where its shield couldn't reach. He'd even hoped that the existence of a strong frontal offense and defense meant that its rear was somehow more vulnerable. It'd only been when the thing had fired a shot from its arm cannon that missed him but landed right in the middle of a crowd of tank carriers that he'd been hit with an epiphany. It'd taken him less than three seconds to go with the idea and so far he had yet to be disappointed.

After all why should he work so diligently to kill the walking tank when with a little work he could make the big thing work for him?

With that in mind he'd tapped into his empathic abilities get a feel for the layout of the enemy forces and then done his best to make the giant fire its arm cannon rather than use its shield arm. It'd taken a few near misses to get the timing just right but once he had it locked things couldn't have gone better. Moving from position to position he provoked the giant and, when his mental math told him that the cannon shot would go where he wanted it to, he stopped just long enough for the big lug to aim and then fire.

Then, just as planned, he dodged to the side, allowing the shot to fly through the air before impacting right in the middle of a crowd of Covenant soldiers.

He didn't press his luck too hard, of course, since he knew that even the stupidest hired muscle would clue into the fact that its shots were killing its allies. So to keep the thing's temper hot he'd occasionally peppered it with rounds, aiming for the gaps in its armor.

He didn't know precisely how much time had passed since he'd first perfected his little game but he was fairly certain that most of the enemy soldiers in the area had been successfully killed.

 _Now, do I finish this one off and head back to the main group or do I try to lead this lumbering giant to another battalion of its friends?_ he thought as he considered doing more damage to the enemy forces.

The question was answered for him when out of nowhere twin blades made of energy burst from the giant's chest, causing it to yell out in pain before dropping to the ground. Looking towards the source of the blade, he saw that one of the large two legged aliens that liked to call the shots had been the one to kill the giant. It was ruthless and made it clear that Covenant forces didn't care all that much about each other but it also made strategic sense. The giant's hand cannon was capable of inflicting serious damage to the alien force and its wielder was proving to be too easily manipulated to be trusted with it anymore.

Solution? Eliminate the cannon wielder.

Guess that made for another useful bit of information: the Covenant were willing to kill their own to accomplish their mission and didn't hesitate to kill should one of their own prove to be a threat.

That made taking hostages and trying to use them as leverage a weak tactic at best.

 _Better get back to the main group,_ he decided before taking his last of his M9 grenades. _But not before giving the swordsman a going away present._

Lobbing the pinless explosive at the leader, he then began to shoot his way back to where the Academy residents, the ODSTs and Joy were still fighting. He didn't bother with finesse along the way, using bullets, the butt of his battle rifle or his fist to clear his path back to the fallback location. The sound of an M9 shotgun joining him let him know that Daisy was following his lead, so between the two of them, they cleared a path. He heard a few shots from sniper rifles and spotted one bird like alien go flying backwards, a spray of blood marking its path. One of the snipers at the top of the rock face, probably Joy, was providing fire support and so it was that he arrived back behind the cover he'd previously left, with only minor damage to his armor.

"The big bogies are defeated," he declared, linking once more with the comms of the faculty at the fallback position. "Took out a good number of their troops, too."

"There's still plenty more where they came from, Sierra-Zero-Six-Nine," Joy reminded him even as she let loose another shot. "Still, you've bought us a bit of breathing room. I don't think they expected you and Sierra-Zero-Two-Three to be able to take down those giants so easily."

"Good. Shaken enemies hesitate and make mistakes," he said glad that his aggressive action had had a side benefit. "It'll give the Aegis Fate more time to create a window and then come to pick up the first load of evacuees."

"That'll only work as long as the other Covenant ship doesn't get involved," Joy pointed out as the armed evacuees fought with more vigor due to the example he and Daisy had set.

He didn't say anything but he agreed that, if the other ship joined the one currently attempting to destroy the UNSC Aegis Fate, then their ride home would be destroyed swiftly. Looking towards where the central Academy buildings were located, he saw the Covenant ship hovering over it but not firing down at the ground. This all but confirmed that the ODSTs that'd been left behind to draw the enemy's attention away from the evacuees were dead, or at least were not putting up enough of a fight to warrant bombardment. It was likely that, so long as the vessel attacking the Aegis Fate didn't slide too close to defeat, they'd stay out of the fight.

Based on the flight speed of the attacking Covenant ship, they'd be able to get in the UNSC vessel's face in under a minute.

After that… even he couldn't be optimistic about the future.

"We need to figure out a way to remove the last ship from the equation, even if it's only temporarily," he said, voicing his thoughts out loud. "Doing so would distract the ship attacking the Aegis Fate and give them an opening to exploit."

"With all due respect, Sierra-Zero-Six-Nine, we aren't packing anything powerful enough to get that ship to even notice us, never mind make them ignore the Aegis Fate," Colonel Mehaffey said from her position inside the mine.

She was right.

Even with the supply pods dropped by the Aegis Fate, the contents were geared more towards fighting infantry and armored vehicles rather than spaceships. Indeed, based on what'd happened at Chi Ceti, only nukes or M.A.C. rounds had proven effective at damaging them, with the latter having to be planted inside the enemy vessel by a boarding party. There was no chance of making an improvised M.A.C. gun of sufficient power to do any good and any nukes they MIGHT be able to get ahold of would likely fry them along with the enemy. Nukes had a blast radius and, even if they were far enough away to avoid instant death, the burns and possible radiation poisoning would likely make many people wish they had.

It didn't change the fact that what little good fortune they had right then was due more to the arrogance of the enemy than their combat prowess. Unless the Covenant ship deployed almost all its crew until only a skeleton was left to mind the ships and they somehow survived that, the future was looking grim.

"Look! More fighters!" one of the cadets yelled, pointing to a spot in the air. "They're coming this way!"

Shifting his gaze to where the cadet had pointed, he confirmed the presence of over ten enemy fighters heading towards them. This undermined the recovered morale that the deaths of the two giants had given the evacuees because the fighters had never come in groups larger than three. With the supply pods had come several anti-aircraft weapons that'd helped knock them out of the sky but they had come with minimal ammunition. Most of the weapons and ammunition inside had been focused in other areas.

"What's the status of our anti-aircraft weaponry?" he asked, hoping that they had enough to at least remove two thirds of the incoming fighters.

"We got seven rockets left for the launchers and only four shots for the Stanchion," one of the ODST members reported from his place near the supply pods.

Enough to take out most of the incoming fighters but it'd rely on them scoring a killing strike with every rocket and every shot from the Stanchion. Once the first of their number was destroyed they'd almost certainly scatter and attack from multiple vectors in order to make targeting them difficult. That'd increase the odds of a missed shot, making it more likely that a greater number of the incoming fighters would survive to attack. Looking back to the Covenant ground forces, he could see that they were pulling back and that implied that the weapons on the fighters were not precision instruments. An odd deviation from how the tri-jawed one had been all too willing to kill one of the giants when it proved a hindrance.

"Get all evacuees into the mine," he ordered even as he picked up one of the rocket launchers. "Get them out of the open."

The various people who'd been defending the location left their positions of cover and made for the entrance of the mine with as much speed as they could muster, leaving only Rogue Team and the ODSTs outside, armed with the most powerful weapons they possessed, including the anti-aircraft weapons.

Raising his weapons to look through the scope, he put the crosshairs on the center fighter before waiting for it to get a little closer. He needed it to come close enough to make evasion unlikely but not so close that he wouldn't survive long enough to pull the trigger.

"Make these shots count," he said to all present as he mentally gauged the closing gap between him and his target.

Then, as though tapped by some divine force, all of them fired at once and, miraculously, they all fired at different targets rather than two or more aiming for the same one. Rockets shot across the sky and shots from the Stanchion cut through the air like a hot knife through butter. Of the targets aimed at, ten were successfully dispatched to crash violently into the ground but the rest veered off, with only one suffering any damage at all. Dropping the launcher to the ground he brought his XBR55 forward as the best weapon he had now that all the anti-aircraft weaponry had been exhausted. Bringing it up so he could utilize the scope, he did his best to get a lock on where his experience thought the cockpit most likely resided. Even if his weapon couldn't do enough damage to bring it down, if he could get a single round to get through to the pilot it would accomplish much the same thing. He knew without asking that Joy was doing the same thing and, with her aim being second only to Linda's, he was certain she'd hit the mark.

He didn't know the ODSTs well enough to know if he could trust their aim but, if any unenhanced UNSC soldiers could do it, they could.

As soon as the fighter he'd chosen was well into the effective range of his XBR55 he opened fire, sending shots to where he figured the pilot was. When he didn't get the desired reaction he adjusted his aim a bit and resumed firing, hoping that the correction would succeed in at least dealing the pilot a disabling blow. This time, though, he noticed a decided reduction in control, confirming that the pilot had been injured at least but the fighter was still on course for him and would likely open fire soon. Thus he took the ineffectiveness of his first shot and the partial effectiveness of his second shot to figure out where to send his next barrage and opened fire.

This time the fighter lost direction altogether but, much to his dismay, it was still more or less on a path right for him.

Diving to the ground and staying there it flew over his head before crashing into the trees just outside the landing zone he'd chosen for the frigate. Quickly getting his feet back under him, he looked around to see how the others had faired only to grimace at partial success. Half of the remaining defenders had successfully shot down their targeted fighters but the others had not been able to score a fatal hit and so they'd been mowed down by incoming fire. Rogue team came out without a scratch but two thirds of the ODSTs were either dead or lying on the ground injured, making it unlikely either would be able to get back into the fight.

Looking for the remaining fighters, he found them keeping their distance but, as evident by the pock marks being made in the ground, their intent was to kill from a distance. The good thing about that was that it looked like their aim from such a distance wasn't precise enough to do more than cause the flung dirt and rocks to give them mild scrapes.

"They're never going to hit us from that far away," Daisy said, conserving ammunition since all the fighters were well outside of her weapon's effective range.

No, they weren't… and that meant their firing was meant as a distraction as well as to keep them from going anywhere else!

Taking his eyes off the fighters, he looked with special focus on the last known position of the Covenant ground forces. If the shots from the fighters were a distraction then it might mean that they were about to get by infantry again. However nowhere he looked could he see any sign of them and that bothered him. The Covenant wanted humanity dead and, unless someone else came up with one helluva plan, it was highly likely that by now they were the only humans left along with the evacuees.

So why weren't they launching more fighters or sending their infantry back in?

 _No fighters… no infantry… what does that leave them with?_ he thought as Joy continued to take shots with her sniper rifle at the fighters.

Looking back at the central Academy area, he got his answer as the second Covenant ship changed course from its holding pattern to a straight line towards the fallback position.

 _Dammit!_ he thought as the situation worsened. "Get everyone as deep into the mine as they can go! NOW!"

"It's not going to do any good," Joy pointed out as she abandoned her snipers nest at the top of the rock face. "Based on the data recovered about Harvest, a concentrated blast from that ship is the equivalent of a nuke."

"It's better than doing nothing," he said, unwilling to just wait for the end to burn them extra crispy. "Now get everyone breathing into the mine and as deep as they can get before the Covenant ship gets here."

With her objection raised and rejected Joy was quick to follow his orders, helping those members of the ODST still alive into the mine, with Daisy lending an extra set of arms to expedite matters. As much as he didn't want to believe that there was nothing further he could do, it was indeed the truth. Even with all the digging he'd done into the Academy and the next closest settlement, there was no tool or weapon that he could get to quickly enough to change what was about to happen. Only the Aegis Fate had weapons that could hurt the enemy ship and they had their hands full with the one chasing them about the area.

The only thing he could do was put those he'd been charged to protect behind the strongest barriers he could and hope for the best.

 _Best to let Captain Hammer know,_ he thought before opening a comm-channel. "Sierra-Zero-Six-Nine to Aegis Fate. Come in!"

"We read you but we're a little busy at the moment," Captain Hammer said with the sounds of activity on the other side almost drowning the officer out.

"We're about to join you. The other Covenant ship is headed our way and the ground forces have pulled back," he said as he kept his eyes locked on the approaching ship even as his team continued moving the ODST below ground. "I'm sending everyone deep into the mines as a precaution."

"Damn! We'll try to wrap up our fight as soon as we can," Captain Hammer said, registering the urgency of the development. "Take care of those people from the Academy, Sierra-Zero-Six-Nine, and we'll be there to pick you up."

"We'll be waiting," he said before the connection was terminated.

With that done he followed Daisy into the mine, considering for a moment using his strength to bring down the ceiling in order to seal the entrance, but in the end he dismissed the idea. Without a means to fuse the rocks together the lethal levels of heat would still get through and cook them, plus if the Aegis Fate somehow managed to defeat its current foe, digging them out would only prolong their stay.

 _I'm not a very religious person, God, but if you're listening I'd appreciate any help you can give us,_ he thought upwards since that was where most religions and mythologies put the good guys.

Almost as if in answer to his prayer thunder echoed through the air and a moment later something dropped from the sky, spearing the approaching Covenant vessel right through the center of its mass. This shook it and caused it to list off balance before those aboard looked to restore some measure of stability, veering off from its previous approach course.

"Where did that-?" he asked before his Mjolnir armor picked up a transmission.

A UNSC transmission.

"This is the UNSC Thermopylae. Backup's arrived, gentlemen," came a woman's voice, sounding both determined and angry. "No one's getting fried on my watch!"

As soon as he heard the name of the ship he couldn't help but be a bit confused since it was not on one of the ones that'd been assigned to a system close to the Circinius system. He did recall his effort through Doctor Halsey and Chief Mendez to reassign additional ships for evac but, if his memory served him right, the Thermopylae was a UNSC destroyer, not a Charon-class frigate.

Not that he was complaining, of course.

 _Of course now I have the problem of trying to figure out which deity decided to answer my prayer,_ he thought as he watched another heaven-descending blow that he now recognized as a M.A.C. round slam into the ship that'd intended to render his mission a failure.

This one struck left of center and closer to the front of the ship but the damage was still significant.

Another shot like that and the Covenant ship was going down.

 _It might not have gone as well as I'd hoped but, considering how things could've gone if the space elevator had been used and everyone'd stayed at the central Academy buildings… I'm calling this 'mission accomplished',_ he thought, looking to the smoking remains of the Academy in the distance.

Nevertheless… he didn't think things would go so well next time.

 _ **UNSC Thermopylae, Two Hours Later**_

 _ **Joyce-Zero-Seven-Zero's POV**_

"We did the best we could, Alex," she said, reassuring Rogue team's leader as he watched the wounded and the dead taken off the Pelican that'd transported them up from the planet.

"I know but that doesn't mean we can just brush this off," Alex said, turning away from the previous focus of his gaze. "People are dead because we miscalculated, we failed to take into account all the variables, and we won't get lucky a second time. Next time it'll be worse."

"I'm not saying we should brush it off," she said sternly, disapproval of her friend's mood clear. "I'm just saying that for all the things we're supposed to be, we're not infallible. We're not invulnerable. We're still just as human as anyone else aboard the Thermopylae. All we can do is give it our all on every mission and hope that it's enough."

"You're right," Alex said grudgingly, accepting her wisdom. "Here's hoping it'll be enough."

"Sierra-Zero-Six-Nine, Sierra-Zero-Seven-Zero, Sierra-Zero-Two-Three please report to briefing room six immediately," came a woman's voice through the ship's internal communications system. "I repeat: Sierra-Zero-Six-Nine, Sierra-Zero-Seven-Zero, Sierra-Zero-Two-Three please report to briefing room six immediately."

"Looks like it's time for the debriefing," Daisy said after they finished listening to the message.

"Better not keep the officer waiting," Alex said before he began walking towards the nearest lift. "Fall in, Rogue team."

With those words she and Joy fell into line behind their leader.

While some people might've needed a map to find their way they didn't because one of the things that Alex had them do during the final year of their training was to memorize the layout of every class of UNSC ship currently in service. His reason for that was that there was that the Insurrectionists were known to have a few stolen UNSC ships under their command and might steal more in the future. By committing the layout of each ship class to memory, they'd be able to efficiently move about in order to accomplish their mission should it involve being aboard one. So they knew exactly where briefing room six was located, as well as the most efficient way there.

As a result it took them less than two minutes to reach the room and, when the door slid open, they beheld the standard accessories one would expect from a briefing room. Standing at the head of the table was lady officer with a rank insignia indicating she was a colonel.

"Rogue team reporting as ordered," Alex reported as he along with the rest of them crisply saluted.

"At ease, Rogue team. After what you've managed to do here in Circinius, I think I can let you relax a bit," the colonel said with a genuine grin. "Allow me to introduce myself. Colonel Audrey Lasky."

Alex's head tilted slightly at the woman's name.

"If I may inquire, Colonel, would you be any relation to Cadet Thomas Lasky?" Alex asked with mild curiosity.

"Yes, he's my son. I take it you met him during your mission at the Academy?" Colonel Lasky asked, looking a little surprised at the inquiry.

"Yes. He was in one of the classes I taught on urban warfare," Alex replied.

"I imagine he was… difficult. The latest reports I've received implied a level of rebelliousness," Colonel Lasky said, sounding like she was a bit uncomfortable with the information.

"While a level obedience is required in order to assure maximum efficiency and probability of success, a mindless drone that blindly follows orders is not desirable. A soldier needs to be able to think independently when the situation dictates it and there are times when a soldier might be called upon to disregard the orders of a superior officer in the interests of the greater good," Alex said in order to reassure the colonel. "Properly tempered, there's no reason to completely wipe out Cadet Lasky's defiance."

"I suppose not but enough about my wayward son. Let's proceed with the debriefing," Colonel Lasky said, sounding pleasantly surprised by the reassurance. "Could you please summarize your activities after first setting foot on Circinius IV. I may ask questions along the way so be ready for interruptions."

For the next hour and a half Rogue team summarized their activities on Circinius IV from beginning to end, with only a few questions asked along the way. Most of the inquiries were focused on Covenant behavior and combat tactics, with a few being about the weapons used, but that was to be expected. This early in the conflict against the Covenant, information was of top priority: who they were, where they'd come from and what their military threat level was just for starters. Right now the Covenant held a technological advantage over the UNSC, as well as the benefit of being a complete unknown. While it would take some time before humanity could negate the former, every scrap of relevant intel acquired chipped away at the latter, bringing them one step closer to evening things out. Indeed, the right piece information could be just what they needed to turn things around and start dealing out damage rather than just taking it.

"Well, I think that'll be enough to satisfy ONI," Colonel Lasky said as her hands left her pad. "As for me, I can only thank you all for what you did down there. According to what I'd been told, I'd expected there to be much greater losses and few survivors, if any."

"Rogue team didn't do it alone, Ma'am. The cadets and faculty acquitted themselves well down there," Alex said, not allowing all the credit to be dumped on them. "Including your son. With further training and experience I have no doubt all the cadets will prove themselves assets to the UNSC."

"After surviving the firefight down on Circinius IV, they're certainly a few steps ahead of other recruits," Colonel Lasky said, only letting wisps of pride in her son leak through her mask of professionalism. "You are dismissed, SPARTANs. I expect you'll be handed your next mission soon enough."

"I imagine so, Ma'am," Alex said as he stood up and saluted once more.

With that they left the briefing room for the auxiliary crew quarters, where any non-assigned soldiers stayed for the duration of a mission or a trip. It was as good a place as any to stay until their new orders arrived.

And it'd provide him an opportunity to discuss the battle they'd just survived, both what they'd done right and the mistakes they'd made.

The former could be built upon to be better while the latter had to be eliminated entirely.

Note: Now I know that those who are knowledgeable about Halo facts and lore will say that it is highly unlikely if not impossible that the Aegis would've fared very well against the Covenant ship or that one could've been destroyed by the Hannibal. However I really, really, REALLY wanted to change how things had gone in the movie 'Halo: Forward Unto Dawn' so I tried to balance making the fight very difficult but not so much so as to make getting out of there impossible. I hope any hardcore fans of the Halo franchise won't be too offended at how non-canon things went and simply enjoyed the overall story.


End file.
